


The Bravest Thing Part 4

by livvels1012



Series: The Bravest Thing [4]
Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Birthday!, Child Abuse Warning, F/F, MomGwen, adoption fic, child neglect warning, dadvid, maxvid shippers can bugger off we are moral and wholesome over here, platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-01-25 09:27:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 34,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21354013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livvels1012/pseuds/livvels1012
Summary: Max's eleventh birthday arrives, along with even more big changes. David finally steps into the role of a full time parent, and faces the major choices that come with it. Gwen stays in Sleepy Peak, and learns the history of the cult in hopes of some clue as to where Sunil has gone into hiding. Max tries to make the best of what he has, and focuses on the lessons from the good people in his life.
Relationships: Aster/Victoria
Series: The Bravest Thing [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1477097
Comments: 30
Kudos: 130





	1. Chapter 1

Max could hear excited whispers and giggling before he even walked into the kitchen the morning of November 18th, half asleep and ready for coffee. When his foster mothers saw him, they immediately stopped talking and waved at him with perfectly innocent smiles.  _ Okay, what the fuck.  _   
  
“You guys are being weirder than usual,” he said, yanking open the fridge to grab a juice.    
  
“Facetious little--”   
  
“Aster,” Victoria said warningly. “Remember, Max can say and do whatever he wants today.”   
  
Max closed the fridge and stared at them. While he liked the sound of that, it had to be a special occasion.  _ Did someone else die? _ He thought with dark mirth. “What’s going on today?”   
  
The two women exchanged looks, and then just stared at him. Max huffed, “Seriously, what’s--”   
  
And then he remembered. First of all, he felt embarrassed that he forgot his own birthday, even though he had never really paid it attention before since neither of his parents did. But that sour feeling was promptly bulldozed by nervous excitement, and butterflies in his stomach. He was eleven years old and he was going to get to do regular birthday kid stuff. Presents, cake, the whole fucking shabang. For once, it was a day all about him.   
  
“Don’t fill up on juice now, David and Gwen will be here any minute to pick you up.” Victoria warned him. “They’ve got a whole day planned for you! Starting with birthday breakfast at the pancake house.”   
  
“A whole day,” Max repeated, reeling. That was...a lot. And if it was planned by David, it was going to be even more than a lot, it was going to be over the top. He wasn’t sure if he could handle it. He still wasn’t the best at the simple stuff like saying thank you for gifts and making his own decision on what he wanted to do when he was presented with the chance to choose. “What about you guys? Don’t you want to come?”   
  
“We have a surprise for you later. It’s gonna take all day to get ready.” Aster explained, swinging around the corner into the hall to grab his shoes, coat and all the layers necessary. While it was sunny as all get out, it was windy and chilly enough to sting your cheeks once you stepped outside. “No,” Max deadpanned and stepped back from her. “I can bundle myself up, thanks.”   
  
“You never do your scarf tight enough, hold still now.”   
  
“No!”   
  
He tried to make a break for it but just let out a strangled, animalistic scream of rage as she grabbed him, wrapped the scarf tight over his face two times and then yanked his hat down over his ears. He stood there, fuming as she jammed his coat sleeves on and as she zipped it up, he glared her in the eyes.  _ You will pay for this humiliation one day, Aster, mark my words _ .    
  
But he followed her out front to meet up with David as he struggled out of the drivers seat and shut it with his one hand, an overjoyed smile wide on his face as he hurried through the gate and up the steps. “Max! Happy birthday!”

He still had six weeks to go before a follow-up X-ray to see if he could get it off and even then, it might still be healing. With that in mind, Max reeled back in horror and shouted, “Not happening, you fucking moron!” at the same time Aster stepped between them to block David with a, “NO! ARM!” before David could scoop Max up into a hug, which was a two-handed activity.    
  
Their combined efforts made him stop short sheepishly and look down like he just remembered the clunky cast. David settled for a one armed hug, enthusiasm not diminished in the slightest. “If you’re gonna be in counselor mode the whole time, just leave me here, thanks.” Max said, but he grinned up at David, not really meaning a word of it.    
  
And David seemed to understand that, as he laughed it off and lead him down the steps. They waved goodbye to Aster and Vicky, who ran back into the house to get started on their surprise, and then Max got into his designated spot in the back seat. He noticed the passenger was empty, which seemed odd. “Isn’t Gwen still in town…? She-- said she’d be here.”   
  
David turned around instantly with his best reassuring smile, “She is! She’s waiting to meet us somewhere after breakfast, the first surprise.”   
  
“Oh,” Max sat back in his seat, relieved. “So it’s just us?”   
  
“Well...no. Not quite. I hope it’s okay that Granda’s joining us for a little bit. He really, really wants to meet you and he got you a present!”    
  
_ He sounds nervous, _ Max thought but he didn’t think it was about seeing his grandfather like it might have been before. _ And he’s really trying...shit. I don’t want him to worry. _ “Sounds fun,” Max said in his best upbeat voice, which really wasn’t much of a difference but it was enough to pacify David. Meeting a new adult always made Max anxious. It put him in a hyper vigilant mode that he didn’t care for at all, but this was different. He did want to meet this legendary person that raised David, and had been ready to go toe-to-toe with Sunil for a kid he had never met, just because David cared about that kid.  _ About me _ . “Gimme,” he said, holding his hand out expectantly and David gave him the C.D case without looking. Such was their routine.   
  
Max flipped through it, and found where he had left off. Their goal was to make their way through each one until he had heard the whole book, and it was like David had something from every era. Mostly the eighties, but he had things sectioned by ‘sound’. Pretty soon he was going to hit whatever the hell crooners were, but at the moment, it was still old timey rock.    
  
He found a C.D with a vintage-y looking illustration of some wacky cat-faced humanoid with greaser hair, spontaneously labeled  _ Stray Cats! Rock this Town! _ In bold font. Down in the corner written in graffiti like colorful permanent marker was an addition.    
  
** _Dave, you seriously need to redefine your opinion of what rock and roll is. Because it’s dead-ass wrong. Said with love. I’ll start you on the beginner stuff._ ** ** _   
_ ** ** _   
_ ** ** _L.B. _ **   
  
_ There’s those initials again _ , Max thought. Wonder who she was. He thumbed through a few more bands, finding more scrawled with some kind of artistic note of affectionate insults and even were simply just with hearts or something else cheesy.  _ Holy shit, she gave him a lot of C.D’s. Like, half the case! He must’ve really liked her. Or she really liked him, some-fucking-how.  _ “Hey, uh, David?”   
  
“Yeeees?”   
  
“Ew. Don’t answer inquiries like that again. Are you okay playing these?”   
  
“Which ones? I shouldn’t have any with bad words.”   
  
“No, the ones from L.B.”   
  
David went silent and Max winced. He hated it when he did that. Every time a sore spot was hit, David was quiet for once because he was just trying to get his feet under him to answer. And that was only when it was really bad. “Sorry, I kind of forgot about those. I never play them anymore,” he recovered with a little laugh to lighten the mood. “But they’re good! You should pick one, it’s okay.”   
  
“You sure?”   
  
“Yeah! I want you to try new stuff, Max, that’s how you find what kind of music you like. And all of those are probably more up your alley, anyway.”   
  
“If you say so,” Max was sure he was putting up a front but he was curious. He looked through them until he settled on one of a photograph of some guy about to whale his guitar on the stage floor with chains dangling from it, in black and white.  _ Cool _ . He handed it to David, who glanced at it and laughed for real. “Yep, that checks out. _ The Clash’s  _ greatest hits it is.”   
  
When it started playing, it started with a pulsing array of guitar chords, soon joined by a reverberating up and down bass under-melody. Max sat forward a little bit. This was definitely more...intense? Than most of David’s music. It was definitely more ‘rock and roll’. He liked the voice, and the scratchy electric guitar. He almost wished he knew the lyrics so he could sing along under his breath.    
  
  
David caught him tapping his hands on his knees to the beat, and smiled at him in the rear view mirror before he gradually turned up the volume and the bass rattled the car seats a bit. Not deafening, just right.    
  
“Can you play that song again? I wanna learn the words,” Max shouted over it and David immediately backed it up to the same track. They listened to the same song on repeat until they pulled into the parking lot, and Max almost had the chorus down, David singing it along with him. Well, not singing. More yelling. Because Max couldn’t sing for shit, in his own opinion, but he couldn’t help it, he was having fun. They grinned at each other, half-dancing in their seats and exclaiming the lyrics together, just loud enough to hear themselves with the speakers blasting.   
  


As it faded out, David turned it down, “Okay, okay, little boys gotta eat breakfast. We can put it on again when we leave.”   
  
They got out of the car and David hurried him inside, always fussing about the cold air with his asthma that was down in the thirties as of recent.   
  
David waved to the cook through the window and Max raised a hand in his own greeting, before they headed to their usual booth. It had a blue sparkly balloon tied to a weight on top of the table, and Max noticed right away someone was there.   
  
First off, he was about as old as Max expected him to be but not at all frail. He was pretty sure that guy could huck him like a football, and David too, if he really wanted. He had tree-trunk arms, and he really doubted the cane leaning against his seat was necessary. He was almost kind of scary looking, with his sharp stormy grey eyes and the full beard and mustache. It made Max shudder a tiny bit. He didn’t like beards, since Sunil had one, but it was different. Kind of fluffier, more jolly and Mr. Smee like. But judging by how his hair was dark grey and paling white in places, he wasn’t a red head like his daughter or grandson.    
  
_ They don’t look much alike, _ Max thought.  _ Maybe the nose, I dunno _ .   
  
He kept looking back and forth between David and the man, trying to spot a stronger resemblance but he heard the seat creak-- or was it the guy creaking? And realized ‘Granda’ was standing up. Was that what he was going to call him? He wasn’t sure he could. Max instinctively scooted behind David a little bit and dropped his gaze down to the floor.   
  
“Morning, Granda!” David said cheerfully, but laid his hand on Max’s head to reassure him.   
  
First of all, his grandfather’s voice was pretty deep and a little scratchy. At first, Max thought he could understand what he was saying because his accent was so strong, but then he realized he wasn’t speaking English. David then replied fluently in the same language.  _ What the fuck? Am I in the Twilight zone? _   
  
“Yep, this is him.” David said proudly in English. “My bestest buddy in the world.”   
  
_ Oh my god. Shut the fuck up, David!  _ Max didn’t dare say it out loud, but felt his face heat up in embarrassment when the old man chuckled warmly. “I see that. It’s very nice t’meet ya, Max. I’m Adaire.”   
  
“Hey,” he managed quietly.    
  
“...Why don’t we sit?” David suggested, and the three of them gladly made their way into the booth. Max slid down to the end next to David, and noticed there was a small box on the table, but made sure not to stare or ask about it. He didn’t want to seem like the kind of kid that was purely focused on the gifts.    
  
“So, what’d Davey tell ye about me?” Adaire asked, turning to him with his thick facial hair waggling with his words and the seemingly genetic Rowntree eye-twinkle.    
  
Max looked up, alarmed to be put on the spot so soon. He expected him to at least ignore him for the first five minutes and talk to the other grown up present. “Uh...you’re a Scottish-Catholic hard ass and you’re good at baking.”   
  
David choked on his orange juice, eyes wide and horrified, as his face turned red. “I-I didn’t say in those words  _ precisely… _ ”   
  
Adaire put his coffee down sharply and looked straight at David, jaw set tightly and brows slanted down in righteous fury. Max could swear that look made David shrink, literally.  _ Uh oh, _ he thought. He didn’t want to actually start something, it was just reflex.    
  
The tension was broken with Adaire broke into a snicker and looked back down at Max, “Lookit his face.”   
  
David relaxed with a weary sigh. “Very funny. Ha ha.”   
  
“Gotta keep ya on your toes.”   
  
Relieved. So Adaire had a sense of humor and the type that Max could work with.  _ Maybe this won’t be so bad _ . “So do you have any quality embarrassing stories about David?” Max asked, leaning back with a grin as he crossed his arms smugly.    
  
“I’ll do ya one better.” Adaire said, and reached into his book bag and produced a bundle of photographs. David stood up in his seat, “Granda,  _ NO!” _   
  
“It’s my birthday!” Max yanked him down by the arm. “Shut up and deal with it.”   
  
“Kid’s gotcha there, poppet.”   
  
By the end of breakfast, Max sufficiently liked Adaire. Seeing pictures of David dangling from a saddle stirrup at his age and knowing his grandfather stopped to get a camera before helping him made his morning, and they definitely shared a sense of humor. On top of that, Adaire talked to him at his level, meeting his wit and challenging it. It was one of the first truly enriching conversations Max had had in a while, and he was disappointed when it had to come to an end.   
  


As they got ready to leave, Adaire tapped Max’s shoulder, “Oi, don’t forget your present.”   
  
“Oh, shit, right!”   
  
“Language,” David said, then shot his grandfather a disapproving look as he said, “Watch your damn mouth.” and Max snorted but he picked up the gift and ripped the blue wrapping off. It revealed a small cardboard box, so he popped the lid off to reveal the contents.   
  
“Wait,” he heard David say quietly but Max didn’t hear him.  _ No. Fucking. Way. This guy is my favorite now. David can take a hike! _ _   
_   
Max picked up the object and carefully unfolded the blade. “A pocket knife?!” he asked, looking at Adaire excitedly, certain it was a trick because this definitely wasn’t David-approved.   
  
“Yeah, Granda, a pocket knife?” David asked, a rare edge to his voice.    
  
“It’s camping gear!” Adaire said.   
  
“Yeah, David, for camping.” Max agreed, deciding to gang up on him now that he had the chance. He looked down at it to get a better look and realized the wood-finished handle was engraved with his name, and a paw print next to it. Bear print, Max realized. David must’ve given him the idea.   
  
He turned it over to the other side and saw there was another engraving there, too. A dara knot, and four words, each in a different color. “What do these say?” he asked, showing it to David, who stopped his pouting long enough to read them. He leaned over and pointed at each word and first spoke the actual, before translating it.    
  


White. “ _ Tròcair _ means mercy.”    
  
Red. “ _ Misneachd _ for courage.”   
  
Green. “ _ Dhachaigh _ is home.”   
  
Gold. “And  _ creideamh  _ is faith.”   
  
Max could swear he had seen these letters before and ran his thumb over the subtle etchings, trying to remember. As he stared at the knot, it clicked. “These’re on the quilt.”   
  
“Aye, that’s the family motto. You keep in mind any time you carry that in your hand, boy.” Adaire said firmly and Max very nearly answered with a  _ yessir  _ before he pumped the brakes. “And listen to your da--” Adaire paused, “David.”   
  
“Oh..kay?” Max said, and put the knife into his back pocket. He caught David’s eye and quickly added, “Thank you. I like it a lot, it’s really cool.”   
  
“You’re very welcome. And if you ever want to come by the cabin, I can show ye how to whittle with it. Introduce you to the lady, too!”   
  
“The lady?”   
  
“Gormlaith. She’s a horse,” David said with a fond smile. “Granda just calls her that. But we can talk about that another time, we better get going or we’ll be late!”   
  
“Late for what?” Max asked, but slipped out of the booth. They waved goodbye to Adaire, and he followed after him. “David! Late for what?”   
  
“It’s. A. Surprise.” David said patiently.   
  
Max groaned loudly but got into the back of the car. Despite how he wasn’t the biggest fan of being surprised (Correction: he hated it), he wasn’t feeling nearly as apprehensive as when the day had started. It was still strange to him, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going to go nightmarishly wrong like it had on Halloween, but he was doing his best to let himself feel happy.  _ Just don’t over think it, dumb ass, and you’ll be fine _ .   
  
  


* * *

  
  
_ Boy, this sure brings back memories _ , David thought. His inner voice was chipper but he couldn’t shake the bittersweetness. He did his best to keep the eyes on the road, but he couldn’t stop himself from taking note of the empty passenger seat next to him. It was almost seven years ago now. L.B, as Max had coined it, erratically drumming the dashboard and door to the music and David laughing and warning,  _ “Stop it, you’re distracting me!” _ _   
_   
Not long after he was given this C.D, he finally let L.B convince him to sneak out to a real rock concert. Without Granda’s permission, at night, the whole cliche of a teenager tip toeing out the backdoor and trying to sneak back into bed before dawn and pretend like he totally wasn’t sleep deprived through all eight class periods the next day. 

He checked on Max in the rear view mirror, and his heart warmed to see him genuinely enjoying music. He knew he could get him there, if he just took the time and made the effort. It was just so wonderful to see him calm and smiling after all that had happened recently. If he managed to get his mind to a better place for just one day, David would consider it a success.   
  
“Wait. Waitwaitwait.” he heard Max say, as they passed under a sign into the lot in front of the entrance, where three figures were waiting right on cue to go inside once the rest of the party was complete. “Wait!”   
  
Max was unbuckling his seat belt in a hurry and David had barely parked before he was throwing open his door. “Oh, be careful!” David called after him, concerned when he tripped and probably hit his knee on the pavement but Max wasn’t slowed down one bit.    
  


By the time David was able to get out and follow him, he was just in time to hear a little girl shriek  _ “MAX!” _ and Neil’s cry of panic before the two of them were violently tackled to the ground. Gwen just stepped aside to avoid being pulled into the fray.    
  
Now, a couple of months ago, David was sure Max would never be so openly happy to see his friends. But considering all that he had been through, he must have been missing them something awful, even more than before. He walked up, smiling as Nikki and Max disentangled themselves from each other on the ground and got up. Max pulled his scarf down to talk properly. “Holy shit, you guys are actually here?! I can’t believe it!”   
  
“I just came for the free trip to the zoo.” Nikki declared, before she quickly added, “And also, I missed you guys.”   
  
She pushed Max playfully and he shoved her in response with one hand, laughing until he broke off into a string of coughs. David was there in a heartbeat, hovering and searching his coat from his spare inhaler. “Uh oh! Put your scarf back on. Maybe it’s a little too cold for this to--”   
  
“You really have asthma now?” Neil asked, “At this rate, you’re gonna be a bigger nerd than me.”   
  
David handed Max his inhaler, who proceeded to chuck it and it bounced off of Neil’s forehead. “Max! Be nice to your friends! And treat your inhalers better, you need them.”   
  
“Chill out, David, I’ve got mine,” he said with a notable breathlessness but true to his word, he pulled his own inhaler out of his backpack and puffed it once, while Gwen retrieved the spare and put it in her purse for safe keeping. “Okay, knock it off. If I’m going to put up with the three of you as a unit again, I have some ground rules, starting with the obvious one. Max isn’t really supposed to be running around in the cold because of, guess fucking what, his asthma. So Nikki,” she said and snapped her fingers to get Nikki to stop climbing up on a nearby decorative rock. “No rough housing, got it?”   
  
“I’m not an invalid, I won’t die or whatever.” Max said, before fixing his scarf.  _ At least he’s better about taking care of it _ .

“Not on my watch, you won’t. Two, there will be no heists for money, food or animals or anything else. We’re gonna walk around like a regular ass nuclear family and look at some cute critters in cages.”   
  
“Wait, what?” Nikki looked up at David, her eyes guying wide in utter horror.   
  
_ Aw, I missed this munchkin. She gets me _ . “They’re not in cages,” David clarified. “This zoo only has rescued animals, and lots of them are actually being rehabilitated to go back in the wild! I even volunteered here in high school and I know for sure they’re living the life.”   
  
“Oh, okay.” She relaxed in relief. “I guess I won’t stage a prison-break, then.”   
  
“THREE, it’s Max’s birthday. So have fun, and stay together.”   
  
“I got one good hand left if anyone wants it,” David offered, and sure enough Neil and Max split off with Gwen in disgust. But Nikki happily accepted it and he had to speed walk to keep up with her energetic skipping. Gwen presented their tickets and they were let inside without a hitch. It wasn’t completely deserted, but the weather and time of year meant there were no lines and no big crowds.    
  
Normally, David might have opted for something more indoors but he knew that all three of them could enjoy this activity and all three kids were rightly layered. Plus, lots of the exhibits had indoor viewings and were heated.  _ This place brings back good memories, _ he thought as he glanced at the map board to make sure everything was where they remembered it. “So if we start at the Reptile Hut, we can go in a big circle and have lunch halfway through, and finish at the Ursidae Sanctuary.”   
  
“Ursidae means--” Neil started, but Max cut him off. “It means bears, yeah, I know!”   
  
David was proud Max was picking up scientific names, but he didn’t miss how both his friends looked at him and Max turned a little red and looked down after his outburst of  _ blatant  _ interest in something. “Just don’t be a fucking know-it-all, Neil.” he played it off.    
  
“Sure, dude. I can turn it off for like...a day. But I’ll be saving everything I hold back for tomorrow.”   
  
“You’re gonna be here tomorrow?”   
  
“We’re having a sleepover, duh.” Nikki said. “Can we go see some snakes now?”   
After that, Max looked a lot less put-out. Nikki abandoned holding David’s hand to run ahead with her friends, and as they started to get further away, David’s stomach flipped a little. “Kids, don’t--” he started but Gwen bumped her shoulder into his. “Let them, they won’t go far. They need the time together.”   
  
“You aren’t vividly recalling every day of camp right now?”   
  
“I am noting every fire extinguisher and emergency exit we pass, David.”   
  
He smiled. He could do this without her, but he didn’t want to. And he was glad he wasn’t. So they walked side by side, keeping an eye on their trio that never got far enough away to look like they didn’t have an adult with them but could chat and look around without a care for their counselors invading. When indoors, Max loosened up his scarf and David could see his crooked, wolfish grin shining like Ursa Major and his eyes bright and carefree.    
  
He just wished Max would be able to make friends at school, and could have this happiness when Neil and Nikki were away. “Breakfast went well,” David remarked, peeking into one of the dimly lit tanks in the false-rock wall of the exhibit. He could hear the echo of toads croaking and kids exclaiming, and the smell was interesting. The warm humidity was a relief from the cold, but would get old fast in their coats. “What is that thing?”   
  
“Alligator lizard. Let’s catch up. They’re already looking at the snakes.”   
  
“You don’t sound like you enjoyed breakfast all that much, you know.”   
  
David squirmed his fingers in the cast, trying desperately not to think about how uncomfortable it was. It didn’t help that Max has written the word ‘ITCHY’ all over it. “I’m glad they get along.” That was the truth. “And I think maybe Granda could be good for Max, but I’m not too keen on the fact that he gave him a  _ pocket knife _ for his birthday.”   
  
“Oh my god,” Gwen snickered. “Did you let him keep it?”   
  
“I couldn’t take away a birthday present! And he got it engraved and everything, it was actually pretty heartfelt and he even attached a lesson to it. Our clan motto. I think it was his way of saying he already considers Max part of the family.”   
  
“So what’s wrong?”   
  
David wilted. He didn’t want there to be something wrong, but he just couldn’t help how he felt. “I guess it just bugs me a little that, well...Max isn’t Scottish.”   
  
_ “What?” _ _   
_   
_ Darn. That sounds bad.  _ David was quick to give context, “I mean that I’ve got all this family history and heritage to be proud of, and Granda has always made a big deal of it. He’s even taken me to compete in clan games and I have my own tartan wear! And I’d love to take Max to Scotland someday. But I’d like him to be proud of his  _ own  _ heritage, if he wants to be. He worked so hard to give his mother a  _ Hindu service _ . I think it’s important to him to connect to that, even if he doesn’t realize it. I don’t want to force anything on him and...I don’t know how to even start. I don’t want to let him down.”   
  
All over again, he felt the same anxiety and doubt that had threatened to overwhelm him for weeks. David took his phone out of his coat pocket and checked it, glancing through Aster’s messages.    
  
**[text: Aster] Truck loaded, moving out** **   
** **[text: Aster] In the house, getting started. Won’t take long. ** **   
**   
“Dude, you just have to ask the right questions and read the right stuff. You already know you’re in the pasty-white-guy bubble, and that’s a start in the right direction...Is that the only thing on your mind?” Gwen asked, nudging him along before they lost track of their charges.    
  


He watched Max stand up on the bottom rung of the safety railing to get a proper look into the crocodile lagoon at the resident rescue, Stevie, honorably named after the famed Steve Irwin. She was an old lady that was transferred for a lazy retirement after an injury, and had been there since David was small. Luckily, there was netting and whatnot for kids like Max and Nikki that disregarded safety.    
  
When David woke up this morning, Max had turned eleven years old and the transfer was final. He was his foster father. Nothing had changed yet, but he could feel the difference plain as day. He just had no idea how Max would take the news, he really truly didn’t know what to expect. “What if he doesn’t want to?” he asked quietly, terrified Max might overhear, even if it was impossible as they left the Reptile Hut and reentered the frigid outdoors. “He loves them, Gwen, and he’s been happier than I’ve  _ ever  _ seen. If he wants to stay with them, I won’t--”   
  
“Stop it. Whatever happens will happen, but you’ll still be there for him. You won’t lose him.” Gwen laid her hand on his shoulder and he looked at her. She looked so sure of herself, and he wished he could feel the same way. Every second, he was terrified.    
  
He hadn’t been this scared when he got lost in the forest for the first time or his first day away from home on his own, or even when Daniel had locked him in a bunker and promised in graphic detail how he would orchestrate his death when he came back. Not even that compared to now. Because if he was wrong and Max didn’t want to live with him after all, then he might ruin everything and his family would shrink for the third time again.    
  
He wanted to be a dad so badly, but that dream had evolved into wanting to be Max’s dad and he didn’t know if he could cope with that dream being set aside, unfulfilled forever. All he wanted was to keep his promise to that kid.    
  
David would never forget the night after they found Max, after all the evidence of what his father (if that man could even be called that) had done to him had been brought to light and Max just couldn’t cope with hiding the truth anymore. He could remember every break and hiccup in Max’s voice, “ _ David, I’m so fucking scared I’m gonna die if I go back _ .” and he never hugged David so tight. It wasn’t out of affection, it was terror and desperation for  _ someone  _ to help him.   
  
“Hey, David!”    
  
He perked up instantly, happy for a distraction, and broke into a short jog to catch up with the kids. They had gathered up at the entrance to another sanctuary and were clustered by the sign. “What the fuck does cervidae mean?” Max asked, his voice adorably muffled behind the knit fabric as he pointed up at it.    
  
_ That I can answer. Something I can actually definitely do _ . David grinned at him, and pulled the door open, warm air rushing to meet them. “I’ll give you a hint. Shouldn’t be too hard if you paid attention in zoology camp!”   
  
“I didn’t.”   
  
He remained patient. “They have hooves.”   
  
“Horses?” Nikki guessed.   
  
“Nope, but close! I’ll give you another. The babies have spots.”   
  
He watched Max think about it with a scowl until he closed his eyes with a huff. “Deer. It’s fucking deer, you guys. I was hoping for, like, a jaguar or something…”   
  
“Feline,” Neil said snarkily. “They’re the feline family.”   
  
“There are big cats here,” David interjected as diplomatically as he could, raising his hands in a calming gesture as Max started to ball his fists up for confrontation. “But they’re right before the Ursidae. Try to be quiet, you three. Even though these deer are raised in captivity, they may not like people noises and will hide away.”

They made their way along the walkway, which extended up and over the actual sanctuary, which was mostly a fenced in grove that the deer could roam freely but was parted in sections. David looked down and through the trees, and immediately spotted the veteran buck, fondly named Bellows, strutting slowly with his head high. “Psst,” he signaled and gestured for everyone to look.   
  
“I don’t see anything,” Gwen said, and got a chorus of affirmations from Nikki and Neil.   
  
But Max stepped closer and narrowed his eyes before he nodded. “Yeah, I see him. He’s cool.”   
  
_ He spotted him in no time,  _ David thought.  _ He’s got a good eye...oh. Aster. Right _ .   
  
“I still can’t see him,” Nikki pointed and Max sighed before he grabbed each from by the arm and yanked them over. “Just fucking watch my hand, okay? Start down at the rock. Follow it up to the cedar-- now right. See that lighter brown? That’s his antler.”   
  
It took a moment, but they got there. They stared in awe as the animal moved further into their view and Nikki let out a thrilled giggle as Bellows suddenly let out a very loud call, and got one in response from a nearby friend. “That’s why they call him Bellows,” David chuckled. “He’s noisy. Come on, they’ve got a moose too.”   
  
“Those things’ll fuck you up,” Neil said.   
  
_ He’s not wrong _ . They made their way through, and with Max’s help, they were able to see at least a glimpse of every animal available, although the big horned sheep were always out in the open. Gwen managed to corral the three of them to the feeding station and got them to wait long enough until it opened. Most of the animals couldn’t be fed by people, since it was really only a ‘zoo’ to generate revenue to care for them. It was a sanctuary first and foremost, and the facility did its best to maintain healthy living habits.   
  
But sheep were sheep. Even David got that. He retrieved the bucket of feed and held it as Gwen dispensed handfuls to Nikki and Neil, who was fretting about sanitizer. Max hung back against the wall of the yard, watching the shaggy animals make a beeline for them once they realized treats were afoot.    
  
“You okay, Max?” David asked, walking over and leaning down.    
  
Max shrugged lamely but didn’t say anything. David gave the bag a shake and held it out to him, “It’s just like giving Winnie a biscuit, but less slobbery.”   
  
“...It’s just weird. Doing this kind of stuff. With them and you and today.” Max muttered, as he stared at the feed like it would have a viper hiding inside of it.    
  
“Are you not having fun? We can go if you want.” David lowered himself down to one knee so he was eye to eye with the kid. He had learned it always made it easier for Max to hold eye contact.    
  
“Leave? Hell no. This is great, I’m just…” Max faltered, and ground the heel of his shoe against the grass in frustration.   
  
“A little overwhelmed?”    
  
“Yeah.” he deflated. “Sorry. I know it’s stupid. I should just enjoy this shit. Like a normal kid.”   
  
_ You have nothing to be sorry for, Max. _ David tried to think of what to say. He didn’t want to hug Max, even if he looked like he needed it, in front of his friends. He had a reputation and one of the worst things for Max was to feel embarrassed. So David kept a distance, and only set down the bed so he could bop Max on the nose, who jerked his head back and glared at him. “No pretending.” David said softly.   
  
Max’s face softened. He looked at David for a while, until he finally nodded and picked up the burlap. “I’ll hold it, you can feed them. I’m okay watching.”   
  
“Deal.”   
  
By the end, Max did venture to hold out one handful and the look of wonder and utter disgust on his face was priceless as a sheep very ungracefully burrowed its muzzle into his palm to get at the goodies. “Gross,” he muttered, smiling anyway.    
  
Once it was over, they stopped to wash their hands. It was a combined effort of David block her from running, Neil and Max holding her by each arm and Gwen doing the actual washing to get Nikki to cooperate, while she shouted, “Noooo, my protective layer!” but they managed.  _ Teamwork at its finest _ .   
  
They made their way through the next few attractions, but this time Max seemed keen on not going too far from David and Gwen. David didn’t miss his wary, paranoid glances around the thin crowds of people and how he definitely had his guard up. It was disheartening that even today and even when Max openly admitted to having fun, he wasn’t able to completely let go. David put his hand on Max’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze to reassure him, and get him to stop looking at every individual for a sign of danger.  _ There’s no bad guys here, kiddo. And I won’t let anyone get you, not this time, not ever _ . “Almost ready for lunch?” he asked him, trying to redirect his thoughts.   
  
“Is the food here safe?”   
  
“Anything is safer than QM’s,” Neil chimed in. “And buffalo is environmentally friendly, so someone here with a brain must be making the menu.”   
  
“A burger is a burger, let’s go.” Gwen pried Nikki away from the glass, where she had stared unblinkingly at the mountain lions the entire time in perfect contentment, whispering, “I want to live here.” as they tore into their own lunch and their cubs rolled around play fighting.   
  
There was only one restaurant in the zoo, but it was more than decent. Hot dogs, burgers, fries and the like, and as Neil stated, made from buffalo as opposed to beef. It only had a few other families in, but it was easy to find a table for the five of them and Neil helped Gwen get their food. David sat patiently as Max passed a Sharpie to Nikki and she started doodling her rendition of a mountain lion on the space left on his cast. “Itchy. Heh. That’s funny.”   
  
“I thought so,” Max smirked. 

While they tucked into their food, David obsessively looked at his phone again and tapped out an update request to Aster. Not very long after, he got a ping back.

**[text: Aster] All good. His room is set up. Finishing touches. Any cute pictures for me yet?**

David smiles and sent the only one he had managed to snag of Max feeding the sheep. It was a pretty good one, of him standing there with the widest eyes ever.  _ That’s immortalized.  _

He felt better knowing Aster was shadowing the whole operation, so he put his phone away and focused on finishing his food before he held up the party. Gwen helped them clear their trays, and David caught Max by his coat hood, “Not yet, let me fix your layers. I don’t want you getting a cough.”

Max grumbled low noises of discontentment but held still as David situated his collar and scarf. At least he wasn’t hitting anymore. 

“Wow, Max, you’ve really become a delicate flower.” 

“I’ll cut you, Neil.” Max said, producing his brand new pocket knife for dramatic effect and Neil jumped back. “Where the hell did you get that?!”

“David’s edgy grandpa. They must not be related, since he’s pretty cool.”

_ Oh gosh, oh gosh, oh gosh, in public, really? Max, you know better! _ But he wouldn’t lecture him today. “Put. It. Away.” David said firmly, looking around for judgemental parents ready to pounce. Thankfully, Max listened. “Keep it away, or I’ll make him return it and get you something else.”

“Definitely not related,” Nikki agreed. 

“You let David boss you around now?” Neil whispered to Max on the way out, but David could hear it plain as day.  _ These kids are out of practice,  _ he thought in amusement and pretended not to listen. 

“I let him  _ think _ he does.” Max whispered back.

The zoo wasn’t all that big. All that was left was the aviary, and there was an interesting moment of all the raptors flying up to the nearest perch to investigate Nikki. “It’s a gift,” she shrugged with a proud smirk. Max was fascinated by the resident peregrine falcon, but the longer he and Neil looked at it, the more concerned they became as she waddled her way along the habitat floor. “Why isn’t she flying?” Neil asked.   
  
“Artemis is an amputee. She lost her right wing. They had to amputate it after she got injured flying into a billboard.” David explained, just as she turned to clamber her way up a ladder with her talons and beak to aid her, revealing the missing limb to the kids.   
  
“Jesus  _ Christ _ , that’s depressing.” Max said, grimacing in sympathy. “Is she happy like that?”   
  
“I’d say she’s the most spoiled bird of prey I’ve ever met,” David reassured him. “Because she can’t go back in the wild, the handlers are a lot more involved with her. She gets to play games and train daily, so she doesn’t lack for any enrichment. And she’s still very pretty, isn’t she?”   
  
“Yeah,” the kids agreed, before finally making their way along. It was a pit stop to see the barn owls, and it was off to the best in show, just what Max had been waiting for. David could tell by how he kept having to slow down a little and let his friends catch up that he was struggling to appear stoic, but the prospect of real live bears he didn’t have to run from was nearly enough to make him act like an average ten year old boy in a zoo.    
  
David really put Granda and his mother to the test on their stance on not using child leashes once he knew he was within sprinting distance of the wolves. He doubted Max would ever get  _ that  _ amped up, but it would be nice if he could feel comfortable showing he was excited about something. _ I can’t imagine his parents ever encouraged him to be excited about anything _ .   
  
“Holy. Shit. They have  _ polar bears?!” _ Max exclaimed, turning and pointing at the map of the sanctuary. “ _ And _ grizzlies?!”   
  
“The grizzly just had cubs, too.” David said, and Max was gone through the doors in half of a heartbeat. His friends followed suit.    
  
“Wow. He’s actually into this,” Gwen remarked, holding the door for David. A false cave tunnel descended down to where they could see the pools provided to the bears for swimming, the sound muffled in the solid and cramped interior. “This was a good idea, David. You were right.”   
  
“I guess I know him pretty well at this point.” David said absently, turning the bend where he spotted their three pressed up against the glass among other children, the room flickering with blue light ripples from the motion of the water. There was a loud  _ splsshhh! _ noise as a massive white bear plunged gracefully into the water and began paddling down after a ball, hundreds of bubbles streaming off of the heavy arctic coat.    
  
“Yeah, you do. And it’s gonna go fine,” Gwen said, glancing at the gift shop. He noticed her eyeballing the rack of plushies, and he was on the same page. “Max trusts you. I mean, all those times his foster moms couldn’t get him to calm down or something, they didn’t call you because they were giving up. They did it because Max asked _ for you _ .”   
  
David looked over at Max, who still hadn’t taken his eyes off the polar bear. He bet the three of them could stand there for hours watching it in awe, and still not get bored. “I never thought of it like that,” he said, which was true. He chalked it up to just more Max-Experience and it was technical knowledge on how that kid ticked, and once passed on to his foster moms, he was out of the equation.    
  
“Yeah, because you’re a low self-esteemed idiot. Have a little faith, or whatever. This is one of those times you actually  _ should  _ be optimistic. Positivity plus Max…”   
  
“Equals success,” he finished and she smiled at him. A knot in his stomach untied itself. “I hear you, Gwen, loud and clear.”   
  
“Good. Hey! Gremlins! Let’s go see the babies before we run out of time!”   
  
When they got to the grizzly habitat, this was apparently where all the other zoo-goers wanted to be as well. Neil could see over the other kids just fine, but Max and Nikki were stuck left out, waiting for a chance to move forward but the crowd was pretty impenetrable. “Aw, man,” Nikki mumbled and David didn’t miss the disappointed look on Max’s face.    
  
He looked around at the other parents, and noticed at least three men (probably 5-10 years his seniors) with their young ones hoisted up on their shoulders above the throng. Moms, too. He looked over at Gwen and caught her eye, before nodding to them. Gwen followed his gaze and then nodded. “Nikki,.” she said, holding out her hands. Nikki hopped up, Gwen caught her and then placed her on her shoulders with ease.    
  
Max stared up at them in jealousy, until he noticed David kneeling down. “You, too, little bear.”   
  
“You can’t pick me up with one arm,” he argued half-heartedly.    
  
“Sure I can. Up and over, before you miss it.”   
  
It was a little more slow-going, but Max climbed onto his shoulders and nervously rested his arms on David’s head while the man secured his ankles and stood up. He heard Max make a small sound of panic and distrust, but David knew he wasn’t going to drop him. Just as they got upright, the mama bear came lumbering out with cubs in tow to have them get a drink from the pool. “Hey, one of them’s a runt.” Max said, pointing at the tinier one.    
  
“Says the runt,” Nikki giggled and Neil snickered.    
  
Max scowled at them, and went quiet. David knew his friends meant well, but they probably didn’t know better that Max was actually pretty self conscious of his size. He knew he was well behind his age group. In fact, Max had developed a bad habit of dwelling on all the things that made him stand apart from other kids. David tugged on his foot to get his attention, and Max looked down at him with an unimpressed expression. “What?”   
  
“You’re a lot heavier than you were in summer.” And that was true. Max had leveled out into the high seventies, fluctuating into low eighties weight wise. Right where he was supposed to be. “Pretty soon, you’re gonna be too big for me to carry you around.”   
  
The corner of Max’s mouth twitched into an almost-smile and he folded his arms on the top of David’s head and rested his chin on them. “I’m not too big  _ yet _ .” he muttered. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


At first, Max was a little confused as to why they were ending the day at David’s house and not his own. But he didn’t think very much of it. He spent half of his life there anyway, and he figured David probably had something else planned. Max wasn’t sure he was up for it; a day trekking around the zoo with his friends was pretty demanding, even though it had actually been incredibly fun. He stretched his mouth wide in a huge yawn, as he trudged up the steps with Neil and Nikki.    
  
“What’re you gonna put us through now?” he asked David as he turned off the alarm, and the warning beep stopped shortly after he punched in the code.   
  
“I’m hungryyyyy,” Nikki groaned, leaning heavily against Neil who stepped to the side to let her drop to the floor.    
  
“Hi, hungry, I’m David.”   
  
“Booo! Cursed!” Gwen said disapprovingly, “But we do have pizza and cake, Nikki, just hang on for a bit.”   
  
“What  _ kind  _ of cake?” Max asked suspiciously.   
  
“Chocolate with strawberry frosting.”   
  
“...approved.”   
  
They dumped all of their stuff in the living room, where David had pulled out the bed in the couch and set it up with blankets and pillows so all three of them could fit comfortably while they waited for the pizza to bake and they put the candles on the cake. “All in favor of Jurassic Park, say aye.” Max suggested, looking through Gwen’s approved movie pile.   
  
“Aye,” his friends declared.   
  
He was halfway through the movie, munching on pizza until he noticed Nikki was whispering something to Neil, who whispered back and he didn’t catch either of their words.  _ The fuck are they up to? _   
  
The lights in the room suddenly clicked off and Max sat straight up in a panic. Anything unexpected, however mundane, put him on edge. But it wasn’t pitch black in the room, between the t.v and a warm orange glow. The pull-out bed squeaked loudly with Nikki’s excited bouncing and Max looked over to see Gwen carrying a two layer cake layered in lots of pink frosting and sporting eleven burning candles.    
  
Everybody was  _ looking  _ at him and singing. Only David was on-key, and Neil sounded awful, but Max felt weirdly bashful, which wasn’t a word he ever used before. He couldn’t make eye contact with any of them as they cheerfully droned on.   
  
Gwen sat down to hold the cake in front of him, not willing to set the tray on the bed while it there was still open flame. “Happy birthday dear Max,” David sang on, smiling so stupidly wide and pride. “Happy birthday to you!”   
  
_ This is really all for me? Jesus. Suckers. _ Max thought in a daze, until Nikki gave him a nudge. “Make a wish! We can’t eat it until you do!”   
  
“Oh, shit. That’s a thing?”   
  
“Just think of something you want and blow out the candles, dude.” Neil encouraged him.   
  
Max tried his best to think of something, anything. But for the first time in his life, he thought maybe he already had everything he wanted. He didn’t even believe in wishes, at least he didn’t use to.    
  
He looked up at David, who just nodded at him encouragingly.    
  
Max closed his eyes and just thought to himself,  _ I wish we’ll be together next year for this _ , and blew out the candles before they melted down. He chanced a tiny smile at the scattered applause.    
  
Gwen cut the cake and passed slices around, and they resumed the movie. Halfway through the sequel, David cleaned up their plates and turned the lights back off. “Okie dokie, campers, you can finish this one but then you gotta go to sleep. Don’t make me come downstairs to double check.”   
  
“Menacing,” Gwen said sarcastically.    
  
“Okay, David.” Max said absently, and noticed his friends giving him incredulous looks at his compliance. Max stumbled to save face, “Now can you fuck off already?”   
  
He growled as David ruffled his hair but felt a little disappointed that was the most tucking-in he got. But it did feel nice to be having a legitimate sleep over, like a regular kid and it felt like he was back at camp, sharing a tent and coffee maker with Neil.    
  
Max was halfway to dream land, nodding off to the flicker and hum of the T.V when something landed on his lap. He blinked hard and picked it up, paper crackling in his hands. “What’s this?” he asked quietly, just in case the counselors could hear.   
  
“Open it!” Nikki replied.   
  
“She wrapped it,” Neil explained.    
  
“Yeah, that makes sense.” Max said, feeling over the misshapen ball. It had some weight to it, but he couldn’t make heads or tails of what it could be, so he just tore randomly at the wrapping until he started to find something at the center.    
  
“It’s from both of us,” Neil said, and tossed a small box of film onto Max’s lap to accompany the fancy polaroid camera. Max kept turning it over in his hands, marveling at the complicated lens and additional buttons. It was certainly more professional than the little square kids’ beginner Victoria had gotten him. “No fucking way. How’d you guys afford this?”   
  
“We split it between us,” Nikki scooted closer to Max until their sides were touching and locked an arm around his shoulders, dragging him into one her of vice-like hugs. “Try it out! It’s got batteries already.”   
  
“S-sure, uh...Neil? You wanna be in it?”   
  
“Do I have to smile?”   
  
“Fuck no.”   
  
But they all did. Max altered the settings, quickly figuring out how to set it up for a dark room and held up the camera, fixating on the square that would center their gaze into the image. The flash left them blinking and rubbing their eyes, but before long, it whirred and produced a square photograph that rapidly became clear and they were able to view it in the light of the T.V. “Hey, it turned out pretty good. If you guys got me a shitty camera, my first real birthday would’ve been ruined.”   
  
“You’re still such a dick.”    
  
“You can’t call me out, it’s my birthday, Neil.”   
  
“I’ll just save it all for tomorrow...Hey. You had fun today for real, right? You weren’t faking it?”

_ Jesus,  _ Max thought with a wince. If that was asked through their discord server, he might have been able to handle it but directly in person, with both of their eyes on him? It stripped away a layer of his armor. Max fiddled with the camera lens. “I wasn’t faking it…and I’m not lying. Seriously. I have a system, one lie a week and I’ve already had to cash it in.”

“Self improvement at its finest. Lying is a crucial survival skill anyway, giving it up altogether is just dumb.” Nikki said, grabbing the picture from him to ogle at it. “You’ve been super quiet lately, though. We didn’t say anything because we knew we would see you soon.”

“Sorry. Don’t mean to be.” He just couldn’t muster up a better, less clipped answer. He leaned forward to nudge the camera along the end of the bed until it rolled onto the coffee table that had been pushed way forward to make room. “I mean, with all the shit that’s happened— what would I even say? There’s nothing that applies and if I think about it for too long, I spiral into this fucked up place and I’m not going there right now. Today was a good day, first good one in a long ass time.”

His friends were silent. Max avoided their eyes until Neil awkwardly put an arm around him and patted his shoulder. They were his best friends in the whole world, the only he had ever had, but they never had reached the huggy stage. Even though Max felt a bit embarrassed and put off, he had missed Neil enough to not care. His chin wobbled and Max buried his face in his hands, choking back a pathetic noise. “ _ Shit.” _

Nikki reaches across Neil to pat his leg energetically, but her voice was the gentlest he had ever heard it be. “If there’s anything we can do to help, you just gotta ask. We love you, dummy.”

“Yeah. Dummy.”

Max cracked a tiny smile. There was nothing they could really  _ do.  _ But it was the effort they were making that consoled him. He blinked his eyes dry and took a nice, deliberately slow breath to calm himself down. It worked. “Swear you’re not gonna make fun of me?”

They looked at each other and Nikki shrugged and Neil made a so-so gesture.  _ That’s fair. Same, guys.  _ “Just promise you’re not gonna leave me? I know that’s stupid, you can’t guarantee that but I just— hearing it would be good. After everything.”   
  
_ Nothing lasts forever. Nobody can be saved. Everyone dies _ .

  
It was exhausting to constantly fight these lessons scarred into his body as much as his mind, and Max was feeling strained at best, self proclaimed fighter or not.

He hung his head and then his face burned with mortification as he was subjected to Neil’s attempt at a real hug with both arms, maximum effort, and Nikki elected to hold his hand since she was stuck too far away to contribute otherwise.  _ Why. Does everyone. Need. To hug me.  _ “Promise,” they said.

  
  


* * *

  
  
When he came down stairs bright and early, David found all three little ones soundly asleep. Max was curled up in a tight ball, as he was more often than not, with his head pressed against Neil’s shoulder and Nikki was sprawled across Neil’s legs on her stomach. Neil seemed to have fallen asleep accepting his fate, since that was what being the middle meant.    
  
David admittedly did tip downstairs one time to check on them, and they had been similarly sandwiched together, snoring here and there. No nightmares from Max. It was such a relief that he made it through a whole night for the first time in so long. It seemed just as sleep began to get consistent for him, something happened to stir up his fears and it was like square one. But nothing like a good day to wear him out and his friends close by to cure it.   
  
He set about making pancakes and the works, planning to have it ready by the time they were up. He was just setting the kettle to boil when a shuffling sound alerted him he wasn’t alone.   
  
Max was rubbed his eyes and stumbling his way to his designated chair at the dining table. “Someone’s turning into an early riser,” David teased him and Max answered by dramatically dropping his head on the table. He picked it up once he had a plate of breakfast and a cup of coffee in front of him. Decaf, of course. “Thank you,” Max muttered drowsily, still slow to wake like usual.    
  
“Mmhm. How’re you feeling? Sleep good?”    
  
“Yeah.” Max sounded genuine. David checked his friends were still asleep before he started to run his hand over Max’s head to straighten out his bed-hair. Max really didn’t seem to mind being touched so much anymore. David was sure he even liked it, and he did have a few chats with his therapist for her input on the behavior change.    
  
“ _ Children like Max tend to have one of two responses to affection from adults. They either perceive it as a threat because they don’t understand how to respond, and reject it altogether to maintain a sense of security. Or in some cases, they become over trusting and desperate to please in order to encourage it because they crave it. In Max’s case, I’d say he favored the first. But from your observations, I’d say he’s making a turn around. Keep offering it whenever you can, but never push a boundary if he sets one. _ ” she had told David, who stood there anxiously writing down notes like he was back in class again. 

She respected Max’s patient-doctor confidentiality where it mattered, but she had become an excellent resource for David when it came to how to help Max in the tricky spots. Suffice to say, he was sure her computer was going to start classifying his emails as spam.   
  
“Gosh, I can’t believe how grown up you are now.” David marveled, “You’ve even gotten taller!”   
  
Max scoffed, and answered after he finished the last bite of pancakes. “No, I haven’t.”   
  
“You sure have! I’ll prove it. Clean up your dishes, and go grab Granda’s present.”   
  
Max eyed him suspiciously, before he slowly stepped off the chair. He kept stealing glances at David, and scowled at his encouraging smile, as he rinsed his plate and put it in the dishwasher. It only took a moment to get the pocket knife out of his backpack. David waved from him to follow.   
  
Together they tip toed past his still slumbering friends to the front foyer, and stopped in the archway. David eyed the carvings that dictated his height every year between when he could stand walk, until the last time his mother ever checked it. “C’mere,” he said, taking Max gently by the shoulders and guiding him to stand with his back against the pristine other side.   
  
Max seemed to catch on and his eyes widened and he shrugged David’s hands off. “W-wait. You don’t have to do this.”   
  
“Sure I don’t! But I’d love to.”   
  
“It’s your mom’s house,” Max squirmed away, clearly troubled and David’s heart twinged. “Don’t mess it up for me.”   
  
David had learned to expect that Max would probably not understand a gesture of love when one was handed to him. Any expression of I’m glad you’re here was a foreign language to the boy. David understood why Max thought that way. He had been told over and over since he could remember that he was a mistake and a bad kid until he cracked and rage and apathy took over because it was all he knew. But David would never stop trying to help Max understand what he really was. A blessing, and not a burden.    
  
He knelt down in front of Max, who wasn’t even looking at him. “It’s not messing it up. And it’s  _ our  _ house now. You just watch, next year you’ll have grown again and we’ll get to make a memory of it. And the year after that, and the year after  _ that _ , and we’ll always be able to look forward to it. It’s a family tradition.”   
  
“If you even still want me around,” Max said darkly.   
  
“I will.” David replied without hesitation. “Always. So you better help me get this done, because I’ll do it with your friends watching, don’t you test me.”   
  
The corner of Max’s mouth twitched, and he shook it off before it could blossom into a smile. “Fine! If you’re gonna be an asshole about it!” he snapped.   
  
He let David plant him in place again and held perfectly still, almost like he was holding his breath, as David flattened his hair down and marked the wood right where the top of his head reached. He took his time to etch the figures in.    
  
**M A X 11 YRS 11/19/16**   
  
As the pull out bed creaked, signaling Neil and/or Nikki was awake, Max didn’t stick around to admire it any longer in silence. He bailed to avoid being seen doing so, but David was satisfied with the outcome.   
  
It was only an hour after breakfast before two cars were rolling up to the front of the house. Tearful goodbyes were shared but not admitted, as David helped pack the kids luggage into the cars for their parents and the kids hugged each other one more time. It was only a little over a month before they might get a chance to see each other for the holidays, but it wasn’t soon enough for Max, David could tell.   
  
He just hoped that once Max was in school that he might make some more friends. Dogs and family were wonderful, but friends weren’t something that could be substituted.    
  
“Alright, I’m ready to go home.” Max sighed, shoving his hands into his coat pockets once the cars had disappeared at the end of the road.    
  
Gwen elbowed David, who was panicking all over again. His heartbeat quickened, his hands were shaky and he was forgetting how to swallow or blink. When had he ever been this nervous? First boxing tournament? First high school solo? Leaving for France alone? No, none of those even compared. Max looked up at him and demanded, “When are Aster and Vicky getting me? They said they had a surprise.”   
  
“They left the surprise here.” Gwen interjected smoothly. “David can show you.”   
  
“Oh,” Max said, surprised. “Where is it?”   
  
They both looked at David. All eyes on him.    
  


_ Think positive. _   
  
David gathered up all of his anxiety, doubts and fears into a ball and shoved it into the back of his mind in a box, slammed the lid shut and locked it. He donned his best smile to hide any trace of worry from Max and swung the door open to let him back into the house, “Let’s go, Max! It’s upstairs!”   
  
Gwen lingered in the living room, and even though he wished she was there to help him broker this news, he understood this was something he had to do one-on-one. They trudged up the stairs and David carefully opened the door to Max’s room, revealing all his former foster moms had done while they were out. Every piece of his belongings was nestled in its place, and the room that had been spare with just a few decorations and bare essentials had been transformed. Mr. Honeynuts sat waiting on his bed, along with the quilt and his pajamas for that night. All his books were on the shelf, his keyboard (a gift from Gwen, a big bright blue ribbon still stuck on the top of it) was set up on a stand in the corner, his bulletin board of pictures and notes and more hung up over his desk that had been lugged up the stairs. Everything. They hauled it all and moved it in on their own.    
  
David watched Max slowly step into the room, seeing how the wheels were turning in his head. “I might have fibbed a little last summer,” David began, finally letting out a half-lie he had been holding in for months.   
  
He closed the door, showing Max’s half of the spirit stick was dangling from it. When David turned back, he flinched. Max was looking straight at him, his piercing eyes burrowing right into his soul, knowing he had been lied to. And Max  **hated ** being lied to. “What the  _ fuck  _ did you do, David?” he said, his voice so soft yet sharp with venom.   
  
_ Angry is normal. That’s Max. Don’t react _ . He thought timidly, as he made his way closer to Max and knelt down in front of him. “I asked Aster to foster you,” he confessed, a weight off his chest. “I know I acted like I was surprised she was doing it—”   
  
“Hold on. They didn’t pick me?”   
  
He didn’t miss the hurt in Max’s voice and David desperately back pedaled. “It was their choice to do it, and they love you, don’t you think for a minute they don’t.” he said, reaching out to Max but the boy just jerked away from him, perceiving it as an  _ offensive  _ action. David tried his best not to show he noticed, and continued to let out the truth. “You were assigned to a family in Utah originally. I panicked, Max, I was so  _ scared  _ you would be sent far away and then you were going to be. I promised to be there for you but if you were across state lines, I might not be able to get there soon enough if you needed me or...”   
  
“Or I’d get lost in the system,” Max said, his tone as bitter as it was horrified. “So you called in a favor from your mommy the police chief?”   
  
“She’s not my mom,”  _ reflex _ . “But yes. I did. I knew she could stop you from being sent away, I didn’t expect her to suggest fostering you but when she did, I asked her to go through with it and keep you until I could get licensed to do it myself. It was a lot of work, I had to prove I had the income and I had to be background checked and I needed a good place for you to live and...well, now I’ve got one.”   
  
He gestured to the room around them, but he meant the whole house and Max followed his hand, taking in the space a second time. He watched the boy notice what David had set up on the ceiling, but they could get to that. “It was always the plan. I didn’t tell you because I was afraid something might go wrong, that my license wouldn’t go through or the paperwork would get messed up but it didn’t. Everything worked out. You— you get to stay with me, Max.”   
  
Now he really couldn’t help from smiling. Max’s head snapped back around to focus on him completely, like he was just finally understanding what was going on. “What the hell did you just say?” he demanded, not an accusation but a genuine question.   
  
“You’re staying with me,” David repeated, wary but hopeful. “If that’s what you want. If you would rather stay with Aster and Vicky, they’ll adopt you and nothing has to change.”   
  
“What if I do?”   
  
David felt like a bone was breaking again, somewhere inside. The pain was that sharp. But he kept his voice gentle, because he saw the fear and hesitation on the child’s face, like he expected retribution.  _ You never have to be afraid of me, Max, you’ll see _ . “I just want you to be happy, kiddo. We’ll still be family, wherever you are, and I could  _ never  _ be mad at you for choosing the best thing for yourself.”   
  
“Can I, uh, be alone for a minute?” Max asked, every word halting and unsure. David almost preferred him to start yelling or something, but this was just worrying. It wasn’t like him to avoid confrontation, if that was what he perceived this to be. But David just nodded and backed off. “Sure. I’ll come check on you when lunch is ready.”   
  
  


* * *

  
  
After David was gone, Max sat down on the bed to collect his thoughts.    
  
_ He doesn’t really want to do this _ , he thought as he picked up his teddy bear and looked into its eyes. “What do you think?” he asked numbly. “Is he gonna change his mind and give up in a month? It’d be the smart thing.”   
  
Mr. Honeynut’s head drooped slightly to the side, and the light caught on the planes of his face in a way that made it seem like he was raising an eyebrow.    
  
“True. It’s David. Smart isn’t really his first motivator.” he agreed, shifting and the bear seemed to nod with the motion. Max knew it was ridiculous to think David was somehow just playing an elaborate joke on him. Since day one, the fact that David really did care was as infuriating as it had been reassuring. It wasn’t as though there weren’t grown ups before him. Teachers and neighbors that showed fleeting concern, but it stopped when it actually came to making an effort to do something.    
  
Max knew grown ups before David and Gwen saw something was wrong, and said nothing. They could have helped. But nobody did until the two of them. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t the easy thing to do, it was the right thing.    
  
When David could have washed his hands of the bratty little arsonist that put him through hell on earth, he stuck around to make sure he was alright and because he  _ wanted  _ to be there. He did more than that. He came running at his beck and call whenever something was up. When Max had humiliating meltdowns at the doctor’s office because all he saw was an incoming needle and he couldn’t do it, David helped He was there to call in the middle of the night just to hear someone ground him back to reality when he woke up choking on his own breath from memories of  _ them  _ hurting him. He saw from the get go his clothes were old and didn’t fit, so he bought him new ones with his own money.    
  
The first time Max truly realized he might have a chance, that there was a slim possibility that he wouldn’t have to go back to his parents, he couldn’t imagine staying with anyone else except David or Gwen. He didn’t feel safe with any other adults. He didn’t  _ trust  _ any others.   
  
And when he found out David couldn’t foster him even if he wanted to, Max had been crushed and terrified at the reality that he was going to be with more strange adults he didn’t know. He couldn’t be sure if he was safe or if they would even grow to like him like David and Gwen miraculously did.    
  
But it turned out from the get-go, they were never really strangers. They were just…extended family?    
  
He was honestly just impressed David was able to contain all the secrecy for this long. _ I didn’t know he had it in him _ .    
  
He laid down on the bed and looked up at the ceiling, noticing the glow-in-the-dark stars that had been arranged in familiar shapes, modeled after the night sky. He didn’t miss every personal detail, how every color was one he liked and all his belongings were accounted for and carefully placed, and it was all arranged similarly to his old room. Every step David took was an effort to show he cared, and to help Max feel safe.    
  


What had Max ever done in return?   
  
_ He’s a good person. He deserves a good kid _ , he thought mournfully as he curled up on the bed and dragged the quilt up over his head to hide entirely.  _ Fucking idiot _ .    
  
Max jolted as there was knocking on the door and he poked his head out. “S’open,” he said.   
  
David opened it a crack, holding a plate of lunch and looking rather plaintive. “Doing okay?” he asked, the concern plain as day. “Were you trying to nap?”   
  
“No.” Max deadpanned, and sat up. “I’m...not doing that too much. Don’t worry.”   
  
“Oh, okay.” David looked relieved and walked into the room to set the plate down on the nightstand. He took a moment before the mattress shifted under his weight while he sat down, looking down at his hands as he fidgeted with the faded scars on his knuckles. “Max, I know that this is weird...And maybe I’m not your favorite person, but you’re mine. So if you’re thinking I’m doing this out of pity or something, I’m not. I  _ want  _ to give you a good home where you can be happy and feel safe. You got off the bus last summer and changed everything for me. You’re the best part of my life.”   
  
“Jesus. That’s a depressingly low standard.” he tried to make it sound like he was joking but he shrank back at the appalled look David gave him. “Sorry.”   
  
“No, it’s okay. I get it. You grew up hearing you were...all those terrible things they said. It would be hard even for me to think or say nice things about myself after all that.”   
  
Max fiddled with his teddy bear’s ear, until he remembered he was eleven and set it aside. “I’m just scared something is gonna happen to you again. Or Gwen, or anyone else. My dad did it once, he can—”   
  
“That man is not your dad.”   
  
Max went silent. It was rare to hear David angry, and it always sent a chill through him. David picked Mr. Honeynuts up and set him right back down on Max’s lap, his expression firm but not dark. “Dads are supposed to love you, protect you and teach you the important things. They’re supposed to be there, and to put you first. He helped bring you into this world, but that does  _ not  _ make him a dad. Sunil Purohit, and Peter Norstrom, can go drive into a lake for all I care. They aren’t our family. _ We’re _ family. Us, Gwen, Aster and Vicky and Granda too.”   
  
From context, Max could gather Peter Norstrom was probably David’s father. He did know his first name was Peter at least, from passing mentions by Aster. Max chewed the inside of his cheek, trying his hardest to keep a straight face. He always felt cursed by sharing blood with the person he feared and hated most.   
  
But in one fell swoop, David rendered that curse void. Max stared at the scars on his hands, trying to imagine how it was possible someone like him could bear marks from violence and then he had an epiphany. _ David’s a fighter, too.  _   
  
He remembered Aster telling him with the proudest smile, _ “You’re just like Davey, and nothing like Sunil in all the best ways.”  _   
  
“Does this mean I have to go to camp every summer until I’m eighteen?” Max asked dryly.   
  
David’s serious demeanor traded out instantly for a brilliant smile. “You betcha! And we can even get you on the junior counselor program!”   
  
“Aw, fuck…”   
  
“Language.”   
  
“Eat a—” he stopped himself before he got too far. “Okay, but what happens when you’re gonna be gone all freaking day at work?”   
  
“You’ll be coming with me. There’s something called FMLA, Federal Family and Medical Leave act. I’m allowed to take leave from work after fostering or adopting a child to get acclimated, so we got lots of time before I have to go back. And when I do, you’ll be a student in that program I told you about. We’ll wake up together and come home together but if I’m ever not around, you’ll be with Vicky or Aster.”   
  
It was reassuring he’d still get to see them, at least. Max tried to think of any other hole in the grand scheme but he was just drawing a blank. David nudged his foot gently, “So...you want to stay, then?”   
  
Max flickered his gaze up to David’s twinkly eyes and he huffed. “Yeah,” he said, so quiet he barely heard it himself.   
  
Before he could stop it, David leaned over and locked him into a bear hug, exclaiming with all the grating joy he was known for, “Oh, Max, I promise I’ll be the best foster dad ever! You just wait and see! It’s going to be so much fun!”   
  
“Where’s my knife,” he muttered into David’s shirt.   
  
“Ten more seconds,” David negotiated patiently.    
  
“I’m not going to call you dad.”   
  
“I wasn’t going to ask you to. But can I tell people you’re my kid?”   
  
He thought about it. In the end, he’d rather be associated with David than...the other option. “Nobody I know, and if you ever breathe a word at camp, I’ll set the whole place on fire.”   
  
He was able to wriggle free after the ten seconds ran out and he kicked at David half-heartedly under the blanket to get off the bed and let him each his lunch in peace. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the patience, guys. I had to quit martial arts for medical reasons and it put me in a pretty bad funk. But I'm doing a lot better, having lots of fun working on DND, work is good, finally have my own apartment aaaand I started dating someone I love very much. I'm sorry if this chapter has weird pacing!

“I have to get  _ more  _ shots?!”   
  
David had briefly forgotten just how loud Max could yell if he put effort into it, and he winced, as he stuck the magnetic dry erase marker back on the fridge. Another update to the weekly schedule. His mom was always good about being organized, and Aster was even guiltier of being so detailed; they passed down the same need for lists, folders, calendars and more to him over the course of his life.   
  
He was a bit more relaxed than them, but Max’s therapist did suggest the more clearly a routine was laid out, the better. Max had no structure before meeting his new family, and that lead a lot of stress. David was just doing his best to make sure nothing was ever unexpected for him, and that lead to a prominently displayed schedule in their kitchen.  The latest addition was a blaring ** “Doctor’s Appointment” ** in blue.    
  
“It’s mostly just a check-up and a teeny, tiny shot.” he did his best to sound soothing, as Max was glaring up at the fridge with fiery intensity.  _ If he had laser vision, he would have discovered it by now.  _ “Flu season is in full swing at the school right now, and you know you’re a little more at ris--”   
  
“Fuck that noise!”   
  
“Hey! What did we talk about with the language?”   
  
He was trying to sound like he could back up the tone with real discipline, but David really wasn’t sure. He was trying to avoid the area of parenting that involved negative reinforcement and punishments, and he had buried himself in parenting books that were cluttering his already knick-knack ridden office. Advice from his own family was...okay. But even David understood the Rowntree bunch were a little cooky, and the Teablooms are exponentially more intense.    
  
Bottom line, he wanted to stick with positivity and rewards, and not to give a reaction or attention to bad behavior. 

But Max had mastered the art of making himself impossible to ignore.    
  
With that confrontation presented, he met David’s eyes and David knew instantly all bets were off as Max proceeded to just swipe his arm over the dining table and dump his entire lunch on the floor. That was the end of one of David’s favorite mugs.    
  
Destroying property? Not new.    
  
_ I really liked that mug _ , he thought in disappointment but he just took a long breath. “Stay in your chair, I don’t want you getting cut.” he said, and Max’s face flooded with red at the lack of reaction. Maybe David felt a tiny bit satisfied at that, but he would never admit it as he fetched a dustpan and broom to clean up the shards, which was no easy task with the cast. _ No matter what, stay calm. He’s just scared, and he’s making a show to hide it.  _   
  
“Tell me where the issue starts,” he said, dumping the broken pieces in the garbage and then claiming his chair across from Max, who made a point of loudly scooching his own away. The boy yanked his hood up over his head and crossed his arms tightly, executing every weapon in his  _ I’m-not-pleased _ body language arsenal. “You know your immune system is compromised, so you can get sick faster, easier and worse than other kids. Still with me?”   
  
“I’m not fucking deaf.” he spat.   
  
_ Calm _ . “And you’ve been in a bubble with us. But now you’re going to a public school, where not every kid has all their vaccinations or even has a flu shot and everyone has the sniffles and cough right now. The last thing I want is for you to catch a bug you didn’t have to and land yourself back in the hospital again. Do you still want to go to school?”   
  
Max huffed. He hesitated on his answer before he ground out a “Yeah,” from behind clenched teeth.   
  
“Then you have to go to the doctor first. Get your check up, follow up on your asthma, and just get two teeny, tiny shots in your arm. You’ll feel them for a second and then forget about them.”   
  
_ Oh, dear. _ He thought, seeing Max tense up and look at him from under the brim of his hood, his eyes blaring wide. “T...two?” he asked in a small voice.   
  
_ Found the issue _ . David knew Max hated getting his vaccines, he saw first hand the hell Max wrought in the clinic weeks ago. But he could see how quickly the boy was shutting down, the despondent change that swept over his whole demeanor and David began to worry it was worse than he thought. “I promise it’s not going to b--” he started but the chair screeched loudly on the floor as Max shoved it back and hopped down. He interrupted David sharply, his voice loud and borderline shrill, “Can I go for a walk?” which wasn’t an out of ordinary request.    
  
Except now he didn’t have Winifred to accompany him, and he wasn’t going to be on a busy shopping strip flooded with neighbors that knew whose kid he was. Whenever he got overwhelmed, Max was able to just skip out and take time in the fresh air with his dog until he was calmed. Aster passed along this habit.   
  
But it was barreling into December. “It’s too cold,” David said softly, shaking his head no. “You’ll freeze or have an asthma attack, and you can't be by yourself. Sorry, Max.”   
  
“That’s  _ not fair!” _ _   
_   
“It’s in the negatives, even without the wind chill...if you want to be alone in your room, that’s okay.”   
  
He didn’t get a reply, except for over exaggerated stomping up the stairs and a door slammed so hard, David flinched and hoped it didn’t snap right off the hinges. He ran his hands through his hair with a sigh and glanced at the calendar. He wondered if Doctor Herrera would make a house call, but he doubted it. She was busy with one of the worst flu seasons Sleepy Peak had seen in a while.    
_   
_ _ What if it’s an outright phobia? Then this’ll be what it’s like every year.  _   
  
David distantly remembered Max’s reiteration of his mother’s explanation on his sorry excuse for a medical history. Rough early childhood in and out of the hospital, and so apparently Max’s ‘freak outs’ became a regular thing enough that his parents just didn’t bother taking him at all, even for the tiniest check up to see if he was growing right or could see properly. At the time, he assumed it was neglectful parents unable to make the effort with a fussy toddler. But clearly ‘fussy’ didn’t cover it.

He had noticed all the drastic changes in Max’s behavior over the months. The improvements in his communication, manners and attitude had stalled almost completely to give way to a quiet moodiness that David has seen before but never so constant. Since moving in, Max was either sociable and bright, or completely distanced and there was never an inbetween. He had his outbursts like usual, but there a succinct difference between the current and the original. 

Max gave up. When it became clear he wasn’t getting whatever it was that he wanted, he made a hasty retreat and then would come back and pretend like nothing had happened. He completely flipped his usual confrontational strategy upside down.

David waited until Max moved on to that final stage. He tried to pass time cleaning up in the kitchen and finishing the shopping list, but he didn’t hear a peep from upstairs. He did double check the backyard, but Max hadn’t attempted to sneak out, much to his relief. 

A full hour and a half went by, and he dared to go upstairs and tap on Max’s door. “Hey, buddy, it’s getting close to dinner. Wanna pitch any ideas?” He tested.

A pause. Then a restrained, “Fuck off.”

“I don’t think I have a recipe for that. You gonna come out and talk or keep avoiding me?”    
  
He heard little feet padding across the floor and David took a half step back so he didn’t obviously appear like he had an ear pressed to the wood when Max opened the door. The perfect, unshakable glare that was remarkably consistent was a little altered only by a slight redness to his eyes. David didn’t mention it, and he also didn’t take it as an invitation. One thing he made clear was that Max had privacy here, something he probably never really had before. Last thing David wanted was to make him worried his own room wasn’t his  _ own _ . “You don’t have to tell me why you’re scared,” he said gently, moving down to one knee so they were face to face and Max scoffed and crossed his arms at the suggestion that he was ever capable of feeling fear. “Maybe you can talk to your therapist about it instead?”   
  
Max relaxed his arms a bit, and was clearly mulling over the idea. But he didn’t voice any of his thoughts except a curt, “Can you cook something?”   
  
“Sure. Want to help?”   
  
“I guess, if I’m not allowed outside.” he said venomously but it as the last jab before he cooperatively followed David downstairs, who maneuvered around the kitchen for a bit to throw something decent together. He dug up the box of old recipe cards handwritten by Rowntrees alike, most recently and avidly his grandfather, and sat down with Max at the dining table so they could filter through them. Max snickered openly at one point, and David looked up, his heart lightening as Max’s mood seemed to. “What’s funny?”   
  
“Cock-a-leekie soup?”   
  
_ Of course. What else.  _ David chuckled, and began gathering them back up. “Well, we have the ingredients.”   
  
“No way.”   
  
“All except for a rooster’s head.”   
  
“Gross! It says it has prunes in it, pick something else.”   
  
“We’ll skip the prunes. Granda used to make it for me all the time when I was sick. The first time, I wouldn’t even touch it. I sat at the table glaring at the bowl for a whole hour until it got ice cold, and he had to heat it back up for me. I figured out that he was gonna let me starve if I didn’t eat it, so I gave it a shot. And I was so  _ mad  _ when I realized it was good and all I did with my pouting was cheat myself out of dessert...It’s kind of the trend with English and Scottish food. On paper, it sounds like food they make up for giggles in a retirement home but it’s the best.”   
  
“And then they name it shit like that?”   
  
“And then they name it  _ stuff  _ like that, yep. You’re on cooking music duty,” David packed the cards up and placed the box where it belonged between the tea kettle and bread basket, then started to gather up what he needed. It wasn’t a quick dinner, but they had just enough time. Normally, soup wasn’t cooked in his family unless they had hours on hand to stew bones and all the necessary components on a pot for their own stock but he would make do with cartons in the lazy-susan he made sure his grandfather  _ would not _ find. If he was judgy about anything, it was shortcuts in cooking.    
  
While he started chopping vegetables, he heard Max speak up. “If I ask you a personal question, swear you’re not gonna get weird?”   
  
“Only because you broke the ice like that, kiddo.” David smiled over his shoulder at Max. For a second, he was perfectly okay and ready for whatever was coming, until Max held up a blank C.D. Or rather, it was a burn C.D, the kind people used to make mixes back when David was in high school. The face of the disc itself was doodled all over with colorful sharpie marker, but somewhere in the intricate graffiti design, there were two initials.  _ I really, really need to reorganize my music. _ David thought in deep regret. “How come she never signed her actual name? And there’s like, ten of them she gave you.”   
  
_ She. Her. She. _ Every time he said it, it was like a hammer cracking down on a nail. And that was a very accurate metaphor for how David felt any time the subject was grazed. A nail sticking out. And everyone had a hammer.    
  
David put down the chef knife and took a minute to wipe his hands on a tea towel, trying to think of an answer. He wasn’t going to dance around this subject like it was something to be ashamed of and risk teaching Max it was. That was where it began. He could see Max putting it down and fidgeting with a peeling bit of plastic on the case anxiously. “...Never mind.” he said, and David rushed to recover.    
  
“No, it’s okay. I’m just used to not talking about it.” he said, doing his best not to sound as frantic as he felt. He turned back to cooking, hoping it would help. “That was sort of the root of it all. For a lot of reasons, we didn’t want people to know we were together, hence how we tried not to leave evidence. With initials, I could always make up a name that fit or deny it outright. We felt...safer, that way.”   
  
There was quiet. Then a, “Oh,  _ shit _ ,” that was weighted with realization. “L.B’s a guy?”   
  
“Luc.” David clarified, scraping vegetables into a pan and cleaning up to prep the chicken. “We met in jazz club sophomore year. He played bass. Maybe he still does.”   
  
“You don’t know?”   
  
“No. I haven’t talked to or seen him in a long time.”   
  
“Because it ended bad? That’s what you said. Bad break up...was he a jerk?”   
  
“Not to me,” David said, and smiled a tiny bit at the joke. “He was that kind of person who wanted people to think he was dangerous and mean, so they would leave him alone but he was actually really sweet. He loved music and wanted to be a tattoo artist, and we were best friends. He helped keep me out of trouble.”   
  
“You? In trouble? Bullshit.”   
  
“I was a really dumb teenager, Max. Super dumb.”   
  
“Well, I believe  _ that _ . So what happened? Why’d you split?”   
  
That was harder to talk about. David pushed bad memories down, a similar feeling to fruitlessly shoving laundry deeper into a basket where there just wasn’t any space left. “Halfway through senior year, we got outed. Not on our own terms,” he chose his words very carefully. “And his family reacted badly. School got difficult. I couldn’t take the bus home anymore, Aster had to come get me. It took a cop car,” his voice wavered a little. He remembered the looming feeling that given the opportunity, bigger and meaner classmates would jump him. It was no exaggeration; it had happened to others, and he had been terrified, more for Luc than himself. He could fight back. But Luc would never, ever raise a hand in violence, no matter what people thought about him. “This town has a conservative mean streak. Nobody stood up for people who weren’t...traditional.”   
  
“That’s not right. There’s not anything wrong with you for liking a boy.” Max huffed, crossing his arms and looking down, clearly uncomfortable. Whether it was David coming out in that moment or the actual issue, he wasn’t sure. David felt proud and sad at the same time. Max was eleven, and understood better than most grown ups. 

“It’s better now than it was. Don’t worry.” he said, trying his best to sound reassuring. “Anyway, when graduation came, he took all his cash and anything he could fit in a backpack and left.”   
  
David intentionally left out a huge amount of detail, mainly because he was sure he would only make himself upset if he talked about it. But he also didn’t want Max to get upset with Adaire.   
  
Still, the kid wasn’t satisfied, as he stood up on his knees in his chair.“That’s it? That’s the end of the story?”   
  


“Nothing else happened. I said goodbye, and he left.”   
  
Max slammed a hand on the counter and pointed at David, almost shouting. “But that’s bullshit! He just  _ bailed  _ on you?! Why didn’t he call or write or something?”   
  
David couldn’t help but get a little defensive, years later with the wounds healed and scars fading. He bit down the sharp  _ that isn’t what happened! _ Because Max couldn’t know better than to blame him. If anyone bailed, it was David. But what could be done about it now? Not a thing. “It was how it had to be, Max. He needed to get away from his family, and my whole life is here. Sit down before you fall off, silly.”   
  
Max did sit, but he made sure it was the huffiest way possible before he shoved the c.d case away and got his phone out instead. Music started to quietly play from it as David refocused his attention on getting dinner going, thinking about what to put it in the pot first and mentally noting how long it took for carrots to cook. He decided to cook the chicken in a pan a little bit first. “...You can ask questions if you have them. I won’t be offended.” he added after a little while.   
  
Max turned the music down a little, and tapped his phone on the table in what could only be an anxious manner. “You don’t think I’m too young to talk about this shit?”   
  
“No,” David smiled a little. “And honestly, I don’t think most parents have this talk early enough.”   
  
“This isn’t gonna veer into The Talk, is it?”   
  
Instant regret. “No!”   
  
“I’m just fucking with you. I’m good...I do want to know a couple of things, though?” Max’s snickering tone mixed into a more hesitant one. David could tell he was trying to hide it. “Sure, kiddo. What’re you thinking?”   
  
“I don’t know, I guess, like...what _are_ you? Everyone has a different word for everything, but I’ve never heard you say anything. You dated Bonquisha, so you’re not gay or whatever. Surprisingly.”

“You mean what label do I prefer? None, actually.” It really did feel so validating to say that out loud. “Labels can be helpful for people, they let them feel more secure with their identity and there’s nothing wrong with using one or changing it. But everyone is different. I don’t really like people trying to categorize me. I can have feelings for someone regardless of their gender. If I like them, well, that’s all there is to it.”   
  
“Wow. Way deeper than I expected. You almost sound wise, David.”   
  
“Hey, don’t be mean.”   
  
“Does Gwen know?”   
  
“Yep.”   
  
“Aster? I guess she’s the first person you would have told.”   
  
“She is the first person I told, yes.”   
  
“When did you know?”   
  
David had to think about that one. “That’s tough. I don’t actually remember. I didn’t really understand it until maybe eighth grade, since nobody really taught me that there was any other option besides boy likes girl or girl likes boy. But we’re gonna guess if I had a grand epiphany, I was probably thirteen.”

“Is it why you don’t go to church anymore? ‘Cos the whole ‘God hates gay people’ thing?”   
  
He sighed silently through his nose and scraped the ingredients into the pot, starting it on the way to simmering. “A little bit. People made it pretty clear I wasn’t welcome in a place where _ everyone is supposed to be welcome _ and I started feeling guilty for things I couldn’t change. All of a sudden, this part of my life that was so important to me was declared something I didn’t deserve to be a part of. I decided it was better to get some distance for a while and a while became longer than expected.”   
  
“Shit...I’m sorry, David. That sucks.”   
  
“It’s okay. I’ve learned to stay in touch with it on my own terms. Although I could do without Granda’s judginess on not being to confession in six years…”   
  
Max snorted, “What would you even confess? He’s just messing with you.”   
  
David put the lid on the pot, a little askew so it didn’t boil over, and sat down next to Max. He looked back at the schedule on the fridge, at the blue ink that seemed to say  _ good luck pal _ but he didn’t say anything about it. “You can always ask me the big questions, Max. I’m never going to get mad at you.” he said, nervously stealing at glance down at the kid, who was squinting straight back at him. “I know that,” Max said slowly, raising an eyebrow. “How long is dinner gonna take?”   
  
“Little less than an hour. You can go watch T.V if you want.”   
  
“Eh, there’s nothing good. Can I go read in your office?”   
  
“Sure. I’ll holler when it’s time to sit down.”

  
  


* * *

  
It took a bit to get into the headset to read like he said he would. Max had trouble even focusing on the titles as he scanned the shelves, looking for anything that sounded remotely interesting. The selection wasn’t lousy, and the new additions from Adaire were promising. It was just hard to focus. That was an awful lot of new information about his guardian to learn on a stressful day. And it didn’t change Max’s opinion of David, it just explained a lot.   
  
David didn’t want to be upset about the past, but Max just felt so  _ bitter  _ inside. Growing up was hard already without people making it even harder. He could tell that David was scared to death during that whole conversation, and Max hated every second of it. Did David really feel like he had to hide all of that? Not just from Max, but from anyone and everyone?  _ What a crappy deal _ .    
  
Max scowled up at the top of the book shelf. There was a good foot and a half of space between it and the ceiling, which had been taken up by a row of expensive looking figurines in flowing clothes and tiny painted metallic halos, all sporting various forms of feathered wings.  _ Angels _ . He supposed they were pretty and interesting enough to study the details, but he had never asked David about them. They still creeped him out a little.    
  
He climbed into David’s arm chair and settled in to start his book, finally able to comprehend the pages, sitting with his legs dangled over the arm and holding the book up over his face. Outside, a mournful winter wind battered against the window panes, whining to be let inside before it moved on and the next gale took up the task. Big fat snowflakes were drifting down, and it was almost pitch darkness in the backyard and to the trees beyond, with only the slightest changes in color to the ink blue and charcoal of the forest. He felt less like going outside now, but he zoned out watching the snowfall and forgot about the book entirely. It was such a peaceful feeling. He wondered what Gwen was up to, if she wasn’t coming over for dinner, and he was pretty sure Aster was at the station working late again. He bet Nikki would be going apeshit with her snow board the next morning and Neil would be sufficiently shut up indoors.    
  
And he would be here. Just him and David. But that was only subject to change if he ended up going to school. Max shuddered and curled up against the back of the chair, choking down the bile taste in his mouth when he thought about their argument. He couldn’t explain why the prospect of shots scared him so much.  _ What’s so hard to get? Nobody wants a fucking needle jammed into their skin, it hurts and it’s disgusting!  _ He thought vehemently.    
  
It was stupid to keep fighting it, though. He wanted to go to school, and he had to toughen up and get it done if it was going to happen. Max just didn’t trust himself to keep it together, and David was getting far, far too casual with consoling him. He didn’t need the encouragement.    
  
The more Max thought about it, the heavier his head felt until a throbbing ache developed behind his eyes and he grumbled, rubbing his hands through his head. It wasn’t infrequent that he got headaches, and he did notice they occurred at weird times. He chalked them up to getting himself too upset in his own mind, and left it at that, but if he didn’t get a handle on it, it would get unbearable. Then he would be up all night. Or worse, David could catch on.    
  
“Maaaax! Wash up, dinner’s ready!”    
  
He winced with a hiss but pried himself apart from his fetal position to get up. Max took a moment to stretch his stiff muscles with a sigh and trudged to the stairs, before he stopped and made a detour to the bathroom to wash his hands. If David didn’t hear the faucet running, he’d get an earful. Once done, he made it to the dining room, only to find David had set up their meals in the living room instead. They didn’t always eat in front of the T.V, but apparently tonight was an exception.    
  
“Buttering me up isn’t gonna work,” Max said coldly, but slid into place on the couch and waited as David scooched the coffee table closer. “I got the po--” he almost said point and cringed. “ _ Idea _ , alright?”   
  
“You said it, not me.” David said lightly, and gave him a piece of bread on a napkin to dip in the soup. As much as Max tried to maintain a semblance of the hierarchy they shared back at camp, with himself on top, he did have to yield some respect for David’s cooking. He ate quietly while David tried to pick something for them to watch, the warm food in his belly making him feel less anxious and the crackling of the fireplace helped, too. He wondered when David had time to even get it going. He set his bowl down once it was empty and noticed next to it the other remained. “Hey!”   
  
“Is for horses.”   
  
“Shut up. You aren’t eating?”   
  
“I will in a second, buddy.”   
  
“It’s already cold.” Max argued, and before David could, he snatched the bowl up and stole away to the kitchen to shove it in the microwave. When he initially tried to take it out, he hissed and spat a quiet, “fuck you!” to the piping hot bowl before he got a tea towel to carry it back to a very bewildered man and set it down grumpily. “Gimme that,” he demanded and held his hand out for the remote. “I’ll pick the movie.”   
  
“Nothing over PG-13,” David said, not much fight in his voice as he gave it up and let Max take over. He did pick at his food, but mostly just stirred his spoon around, bread untouched, taking a bite every now and then. It was disturbing to Max. He seemed so distant, not even deep in thought, and that wasn’t like him. Running himself ragged? Sure, that was regular David. But never in front of him. He was all about an example. Max turned the volume down to talk, but couldn’t come up with any words. The only thing that came out was a measly, “Sorry.”   
  
David put the spoon down and looked at him, but Max turned his head the other way to avoid his eyes. “What on earth for? The mug? It’s just a thing, no harm done.”   
  
“Then for making you talk about all that shit, I don’t know.”  _ I had to have done something wrong. Like always.  _ Max rested his arms on the end of the couch and then his head down on them, focusing on the hearth and nothing else. Or trying. “Whatever’s bothering you.”   
  
“No, that didn’t bother me, either. It was a good talk, I’m glad we had it. I’m not upset about anything, Max, you don’t need to worry about me.” David insisted, and Max could tell he was piling on the positivity, but he didn’t call him out on it. His head hurt and he just needed to give it a rest for a bit. “Fine,” he muttered and turned the volume back up to a comfortable level.    
  
They watched their movie in tense silence, at least until David got up to clean their dishes up. He came back with a mug of tea, decaffeinated, and two little cookies from the stash they had left of the last batch Adaire made for them. Snickerdoodle this time around. “Dessert, bath, bed.” he said oh-so-helpfully and ruffled Max’s hair.    
  
Max stared at him in a mixture of bafflement and gratitude. Even when he was tearing the house apart and throwing a tantrum, David wasn’t willing to so much as take away a nightly treat. He wouldn’t yell, he wouldn’t take away his dinner or send him to his room. Things that were acceptable for any parent yet still rang close to the nightmare Max grew up in were off the table here. All at once, he felt so much guiltier for making David’s job more difficult when the idiot genuinely just wanted to take care of him. “Can I stay up and read a little?” he dared to ask, taking the cookies.    
  
“...extra half hour, but no more.”   
  
Max almost wanted him to say no. To punish his shittiness somehow, to give him a reason to be annoyed with David still but of course he didn’t. So he finished his dessert and retreated to the bathroom. He made sure to dry his hair well and good after, and climbed under the covers with his book. He couldn’t help but miss the weight at his feet where a dog used to be.    
  
The half hour went quickly, and even though it was a terrible stopping place, Max marked the page and set it aside and waited. Five minutes, then ten, and David wasn’t upstairs yet. Max didn’t even want to turn the light off by himself. When he just couldn’t take the sinking feeling anymore, he kicked the blankets off, pulled his socks back on and tiptoed out into the hall. He could hear the quiet murmur of David’s voice downstairs, and he made sure to keep quiet on his way down the steps, where he stopped halfway and crouched where the ceiling formation of the first floor hid him from an onlooker that wasn’t at the bottom step. 

“--not the problem, Aster.” David was saying and Max leaned over to peek through the railing to see his back was to him, but his hand was raised.  _ He’s on the phone? _

  
“I can be tough on him! I just don’t think I need to be! It’s not Max’s fault he’s scared. I’m not going to get angry with him for that...It’s not the school’s rule, it’s  _ mine _ . He’s spent far too much time in the hospital already and I--” David’s voice shook. “I just don’t want him to get sick.”   
  
That hit Max like a bucket of cold water.  _ Sick _ . He slowly looked up at a framed picture on the wall along the stairs. There were only a few, one of them including what looked like David’s high school graduation, but there was also one depicting a birthday party. From the big candle shaped like the number seven, it had to be his seventh. The cake itself was a masterpiece, and there was a proud and Adaire to go with it as he set it on the table. Smiling brightly with her arms around her son, she was there, lively even in still image. She had the warmest brown eyes and very long red hair, and a cannulae in her nose. The camera caught the oxygen tank under the table it was connected to.    
  
On hands and feet, he made his way as quietly back up the stairs as possible and positioned right at the corner where he would normally be when leaving his room. He waited a beat to get the nerve up before he called as convincingly grouchily as he could, “David! What’s the hold up?!”   
  
At least the mad scramble and the dropping of the phone was in character for him. With sheepish apologies, David hurried up the stairs and shooed him back to his room, seeming none the wiser. “Sorry, Max! Lost track of time cleaning up.” 

David sent him off to bed with a proper blanket tuck, a short chat and a barely tolerated hug. “Love you lots, kiddo.” 

There was always that unacknowledged beat of silence where Max might say  _ I love you, too _ . But he never did. The words felt alien and off limits to him, because he had spent so long without them ever being a part of his regular vocabulary that it felt pointless now to try. That wouldn’t  _ mean  _ anything from him. But instead of a silence David would routinely ignore, Max did his best to fill it with a “G’night, David.” Before he rolled over and closed his eyes. 

He mostly slept through the night, except for one episode where he guessed laying flat for so long got the better of him and he started  _ coughing. _ It was the kind of fit where the reflex just kept going until there was nothing left in his lungs to expel, and Max struggled to sit up, gasping once before it started up again. He did his best to focus in his sleepy state to just draw in a breath when he could. It would pass, like it always did, but there was a nagging fear it wouldn’t. It  _ hurt  _ in the lower part of his chest, a sharp muscle spasm that felt like the end of something was being dug into his ribs. 

“Dav— David!” He wheezed out but his timing was short, as the light flicked on and David was already opening the door. Even though he looked like he had panic-fallen out of bed, dumb green pajamas and all, he was calm like always. “You're okay, it’s not as bad as it feels,” he said soothingly, taking a moment to get the nebulizer out from under the bed before he sat down in the bed. Normally he would ask, but he skipped that step as he picked Max up and sat him on his lap, rubbing circles on his back. 

Max still  _ loathed  _ the noise that machine made but he was used to it by now and he would rather suffer through the treatment than the attack itself. He was able to hold the mouth piece on his own, while David supported him sitting upright and waited it out until the spasming stopped and he was able to breath regular again. When it was done, Max just felt so  _ tired _ and  _ sore.  _ He miserably rested his cheek against David’s arm, grumbling, “Hate this.”

“I know. I’m gonna tuck you back into my bed, okay? To keep an eye on you. That was a rough one. It’s probably just the cold snap but just in case…” David trailed off and Max didn’t miss the waver in his voice. He normally would’ve rejected the idea. He didn’t want to be coddled, but he thought about the eavesdropped phone call and maybe David just needed it for his own peace of mind. “Good idea.” Max said, his voice still whistley. At least David put him down and let him walk on his own. His guardian made sure to prop the pillows so he wasn’t completely prone and it eased the discomfort enough that Max fell back asleep surprisingly quick. 

* * *

A secret stash of regular coffee was what kept David functional most mornings nowadays. It was like college all over again, running on pure caffeine and willpower. He rose bright and early with hours to spare before Max would even start to stir, which gave him plenty of time to eat, get woken up and check on the snow situation. The thermometer by the back door read it was in the mid thirties again, thankfully, and the wind had tuckered itself out overnight. The result was a beautifully dusted world of white, like someone had shaken powdered sugar all over as the finishing touch on a holiday cake. 

He spent the rest of the morning shoveling the walkways and throwing pawthaw salt down to keep it from getting icy. A whole foot of snow overnight was nothing to sneeze at,  _ but that’s Oregon for you _ , he thought. By the time he was stomping snow off his boots, the characteristic creak of the stairs announced the arrival of one groggy eleven year old. “Nice of you to join the living,” he said jokingly and Max walked into the kitchen with a yawn and gesture of his middle finger in David’s general direction. 

David hung up his layers and caught up with Max, giving his bedhead a ruffle before he got started in his breakfast. As he set the pot on the stove, he turned to find Max offering the box of oatmeal up to him.  _ Aw. I have a little helper today.  _ “Thank you kindly,” he said cheerfully and took it, and Max sat back down with a nonsensical grunt. He seemed to finally wake up enough to notice the transformation outside the window, “Holy shit.” 

“Language...It’s pretty, huh?”

Max shrugged and didn’t say anything until his breakfast was in front of him. “When are we leaving?” He asked, poking at the blueberries and rolling them around with his spoon. 

_ Leaving? _ David blinked at him, then looked at their calendar.  _ Right. _ “Appointment is at eleven thirty. Think you’re gonna be okay?” He asked, feeling how thin the ice he was standing on was. 

“I don’t care.” The aggressive stab he took at his oatmeal said otherwise. “It’s just two?”

“Just two. And each will only last a second.”

“Are they gonna hurt?”

“Maybe a little bit.” David admitted and Max dropped his gaze down in response. “Max, there’s nothing wrong with being afraid. We’ll do everything to make it as bearable as possible. What if we brought Winnie?”

His head instantly perked up. “We can do that?”

“She’s certified as a service animal, and I know Doctor Herrera won’t mind. But if we do, you have to promise to cooperate. No throwing things, no running away, you have to sit as still as you can. Think you can do that?” 

“I don't know. I don’t mean to do that shit, it just  _ happens.  _ I can’t help it.” 

“Are you sure that’s how it works? You really feel that scared?”

“Yeah! I’m not making it up, asshole!”

“I’m not saying you are, I’m really asking.”

Max slowly calmed down enough to sit in his chair again, and didn’t react when David knelt down next to it and put his hand in his shoulder. David intentionally avoided his back this time. “Can you remember how you felt the last time? What you were thinking?” He prompted as gently as he could. “Can you tell me about that?”

He could feel Max taking forced deep breaths and watched him reach behind his neck to fidget anxiously at something. David had noticed that, but he wasn’t going to say anything yet. “I didnt feel anything.” Max said after a while. “I just kept thinking I had to get away. I couldn’t think about anything else. I had to get away.” He repeated. “And I know it sounds stupid—“

“Not at all. It makes perfect sense. We’re gonna do everything to help you feel safe, and it’ll be over so fast, you’ll barely know it happened. Then we can go do something fun, whatever you want.” 

“That’s dangerously open ended.”

“Well, maybe not what—“

“Nope, too late. The pact is sealed.” Max said with a hint of malicious cheer and he finished his breakfast without complaint. He was relatively chatty for the rest of the morning, right up until it was time to get into the car. David made sure to lock the house well, as always, and set the security alarm. Max watched him from the end of the porch steps. “Did you get that because of me? Or did you always have it?” He asked, mildly accusatory.

David unlocked the car and herded him towards it, deciding to give him an honest answer. “I got it for you. _Before_ Halloween...I thought if you knew it was there, you would feel safer.”

“It doesn’t.” Max growled, as he yanked open his door and tossed his bag in. “But it’s nice of you to try.”

David had nothing to say to that at all. He silently closed Max’s door, and once he was inside the car himself, he passed him the c.d case like usual. They didn’t speak for the whole drive. Every now and then, David prepared to say something, but he took one look at the way Max seemed to be trying to evaporate into the back seat and thought better of it. It was a slow, slippery drive to the Teabloom house, since the snow plows had yet to really get anywhere besides major roads. But he was well used to driving in thick snow, and they made it without incident. He could already hear the muffled barking of Winifred announcing them.    
  
Neither of them were home, but David had his own key, so he only had to open the door and let the hound loose. After a few ecstatic circles around him, investigative sniffs and celebratory kisses, he remembered they were on a schedule. “Winnie, mind me.” He didn’t need too firm of a tone of voice. Instantly, she slowed her gait and settled at his left side, looking up at him expectantly until he lead her to the car. She didn’t whine but he could see her shifting on her paws, desperate to reunite with her favorite pal. “Don’t jump on him,” David reminded her, giving her a pat before he opened the door. Max’s startled shriek and laugh when she leapt inside was adorable.  _ At least there’s that _ . “Don’t forget to put her vest on, so there’s no confusion when she comes into the clinic. And so people know she’s got a job.”    
  
“You already told me, David,  _ god _ .” Max rolled his eyes, but as they pulled away from the house, David did see him doing as he was told in the rear view mirror. Winnie laid out with her head on Max’s lap, letting him pet her ears and hug her the whole drive.    
  
And that got David thinking about Gwen’s suggestion. Max never asked if Winifred could live with them, but he knew it was all the kid wanted. He wasn’t sure anyone ever explained it to him that Winifred was Aster’s support animal. She needed her to get by, and as much of a pillar as Aster seemed to be, David knew better. And Winifred wasn’t practical for a child’s lifestyle, she was too big to go from classroom to classroom all day and she was almost an old lady.    
  
_ Maybe a small one. But something he can play with. So something small and energetic. Maybe a Jack Russel? Or a Westie? But it has to be really smart to do the training… _

  
“Here we are.” David ground the joystick into park, frowning at the resistance. He wasn’t even going to contemplate the idea his beloved car was nearing the end. He turned around in his seat when Max didn’t answer him, but the boy was just staring at the window with wide, unblinking eyes at the clinic doors, all the color blanched from his face. Winifred licked his cheek, but he barely reacted. “Want me to go over what’s gonna happen one more time?” David asked calmly.    
  
Max mouthed the word ‘yeah’ more than he actually said it.    
  
David took his time turning off the car and helping Max out, getting his bag and leashing Winifred as he explained. “She’s just gonna do a regular check up. Make sure your ears and eyes are good, record your weight and height, and then it’s the two shots. Done deal. Then we’re free. And Winifred is gonna be there to help you feel safe the whole time. So will I. Sound good?”   
  
“You’re talking to me like I’m a fucking baby.”   
  
“Sorry,” David ruffled his hair and then handed him the leash. “Ready? We can’t stay in the cold.”   
  
“Yep.”   
  
Two steps. He looked back. Max was solidly planted with the same expression on his face as before, and didn’t seem aware his feet weren’t moving. David sighed through his nose and stepped back to take his other hand, “C’mon, Max.” And it was like moving dead weight. He had to pull him the whole way, at a painstakingly slow pace, and practically needed to lift Max through the door to get him inside. “There! Easy as pie. You can grab a sticker while I get us all checked in.”   
  
No sticker was taken, but at least Max willingly dragged his feet as they were lead to the right room where Dr. Herrera was waiting with a winning smile. “Rowntrees! It’s good to see you two. And the puppy included, hi, sweetie,” she cooed, leaning down to let Winifred smell her hand. “I promised to make this a short visit, so hop on the scale, Max.”   
  
“Okay,” he said quickly, kicking off his shoes and doing just that. Dr. Herrera murmured the numbers to herself quietly and smiled, “Look at that. You’re growing pretty fast!”   
  
“Wait, really? I’m getting taller?”   
  
“Sure are. You might even be hitting a growth spurt.”   
  
David waited as she sat Max down and took a stethoscope to listen to his lungs, telling him to take deep breaths. “...Winter sure doesn’t do you any favors, but it’s definitely better than it was. You can probably cut down to two doses of your daily puffer if you want, Max, but it’s your choice. Now, just talk to me about you.”   
  
They talked back and forth about the basics, how he was sleeping and how his energy was like, follow ups on issues he had when he first started seeing her. As he was talking, Dr. Herrera got a case from her supply counter and began as subtly as possible prepping the first shot. David made sure to sit on the edge of his seat, ready to catch Max if he made a break for it.    
  
Dr. Herrera could only do so much before she actually had to brandish the first needle and the moment she did, Max cringed and all the color drained from his face. “Wa--wait, we’re doing this already?”    
  
“Last thing to tick off, and you’re all done.” She said, calm as ever. Her marvelous tolerance was the only thing that probably kept Max consistently her patient. David wasn’t sure any other pediatrician would make it this far. “Do you want her to count down from thre--?” he started, but he got a shrill,  _ “shut the fuck up, David! _ ” and decided talking to Max might only agitate him. The more he acknowledged his apparent fear, the more Max would fight back to insist it didn’t even exist. Winifred helped herself to climbing up on the cot with him, the sanitary paper crackling loudly as she curled up around Max in what little space there was and nosed his hand. It trembled when he greeted her with a head scratch and mumbled, “Just get it over with.”   
  
“That’s a super cute dog. What’s her name?” Dr. Herrera asked, rolling up his sleeve. Max made the mistake of looking at her to answer, and saw the point incoming and he immediately yanked his arm away, screaming at the top of his lungs. “No, no, no, get it away from me! I don’t want it!  _ DAVID! _ ” and proceeded to hide his face in Winifred’s fur, who was looking very confused. David got to his feet and the doctor backed off to give him the space. “You’re okay, Max, I got you. Just listen to me. Can you take a deep breath?”   
  
“I don’t wanna do this anymore,” he mumbled into Winifred’s coat.    
  
David’s heart sank. “Okay. It’s your choice. But you know what that choice means, right? You have to be homeschooled.”   
  
Max lifted his head, still hugging the dog tight, who was worriedly sniffing his hair and fussing over him. She was doing her best to comfort the kid, but it was a limited effect. He had succumbed to short, hiccuping breaths as he fought to hold back tears and appear composed. “I can’t.” he said defeatedly. “I can’t do it. I’m sorry, David, I _really_ want to go…”   
  
David chewed on the inside of his cheek before he finally gave in. Sometimes, Aster’s method was the only one left. “You really, really want to go to school?”   
  
“Well-- yeah.”   
  
“If I hold you still, will you not hate me?”   
  
Max studied him distrustfully before he slowly let go of Winnie. “You can’t tell Gwen,” he negotiated lamely.   
  
“I won’t breathe a word.” David confirmed, regretting every motion he made but he sat down on the cot, plunked Max down on his lap and held him tightly to limit any violence or escape attempts. He was okay right up until the needle actually pierced his arm and David hushed him and did his best to console Max, who was a sniffling and tear stricken mess by the time the second one was done. Cultists, explosions, Wood Scout invasions and worse, but this was what did it. Dr. Herrera tried to cheer him up by giving him a selection of band aids to choose from, but he was quiet.   
  
“I’m just gonna take him home,” David said, electing for some plain ones. The sooner they were gone, the better. “Thanks for everything.”   
  
He politely bid goodbye for the two of them, but quickly steered Max out by the shoulders. He felt horrible for putting him through this, but it was over and now they got to celebrate, when Max was ready. As they were walking to the car, he tugged on Max’s hand to get him to stop. Once he did, glaring up at David in mild betrayal, David knelt down to his level, not caring at the discomfort of the sidewalk salt and cold pavement that cut through his jeans. “I’m really proud of you, Max. And a deal is a deal, so where do you want to go?”   
  
Max worried the end of his scarf as he thought about his answer. “Can we go to that antique place Vicky likes? With the records and the cafe.”   
  
Surprisingly mild. “That sounds like fun. I’ll get you a mocha...decaf,” he added the last part. “And whatever pastry you want.”   
  
“Two. One for each time I was  _ mutilated _ .”   
  
“You got it.”   
  
Winifred got a few looks when they made it to the shop, but the owner knew her well through Vicky and Aster, so there was no explanation needed. “Are you okay if I go make some phone calls?” David asked Max, fishing out his wallet. “I won’t be long. And if you see anything you like, maybe we can get it.”   
  
“I’ll be fine, I got Winnie. What’re you calling about?” Max seemed much better already, and his voice was clearer, as he held out a steady hand for some cash to cover his snack.    
  
“Christmas surprises, I can’t tell you.”   
  
While Max calmed down with a drink and brownie and went to look at comics, David stepped into the foyer and hovered his thumb over the contact, debating whether or not to bother her at work. He looked up through the glass to see Max in full deep conversation with Winifred, leaning down to show her one of the comic books he had found, before bursting into giggles when she kissed him square on the nose. David tapped the name and brought the phone up to his ear and listened to the ring.   
  
_ “Davey, I’m working.” _ Aster answered gruffly.   
  
“Oh…”   
  
_ “And thank bloody Christ you called, I’m about to put my head through a wall because of these new bloods.” _   
  
He smiled, “Are they that bad?”   
  
_ “Who still writes in cursive?!” _   
  
“Europeans?”   
  
_ “Don’t you disrespect me that way. Now, what can I do for you, sweetheart? Everything go okay at the doctors?” _   
  
“About as well as it could, he got the shots, so he’s on the way. I do have some questions, though. Winifred does a lot to help you with-- stuff. Right?”   
  
_ “She does. I’m thinking about retiring her, actually. She’s helped me come a long way.” _   
  
“Do you think a support dog would help Max?”   
  
She paused.  _ “I think it would be incredible for him. He likes dogs a lot more than people, and they can give him just what he needs on a day to day basis. Are you asking to have Winifred?” _   
  
“No, no, she’s yours. And I don’t think a 160 pound working dog is practical for school. I wanted to know who trained her for you, or if you knew anyone that could train a puppy? I want to get him something little, for Christmas. Let them bond and then enroll it in the training.”   
_   
_ _ “Are you bribing this child to love you with a puppy, David?” _   
  
“Of course not!”   
_   
“I’m just messing with you, dear. I can definitely get you started and I do have a friend who’s dachshund had puppies that were just weaned. But now that I have you, we do need to talk about your friend. She’s making some waves.” _   
  
“Gwen? How’s she doing that?”   
  
_ “She’s going around town interviewing people and asking odd questions.”   
_   
“Odd how?”   
  
_ “Asking about town history. Chasing rabbits. She’s recently bothered Mr. Gartner about that silly urban legend.” _   
  
David’s stomach began to twist in knots. He knew the urban legend she talked about, and it was from an era nobody in town liked to remember, least of all his godmother. If Gwen really was questioning people about it, it was only a matter of time before she upset the wrong person, which could be Aster herself. “I’ll talk to her,” he said. “I’ll see you soon.”   
_   
_ _ “Thanks. I love you, sweetie. Make sure to send me your Christmas lists.” _   
  
“I love you too, and I will.”   
  
_ “Oh, and if you want to keep Winifred overnight for him, that’s fine with me. Bye bye,”  _ and she hung up in time for Max to come scurrying up with a bundle of comics and a demanding facial expression.  _ I didn’t know he liked Sci-Fi, _ he thought, only catching a glimpse of the colorful covers and the space-y look to them. By the time they got home, Max was already in better spirits with his best friend to make him forget about his bad day at the doctors. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, this took a while! But I'm happy it's done. I've been dealing with a little bit of writers block, and having a rough time trying to find an anxiety medication that works. Thank you to all the supportive and patient folks who stuck with me in the mean time! I'm also going to be starting a new series in the Witcher fandom, featuring a prominent OC but mostly Geraskier stuff, with a good dose of family fluffiness and hurt/comfort. A special shout out to my favorite reader (because yes, you are my favorite) Julian, who I am officially dedicating this series to. I know things can be so crappy, but please don't ever forget how much you mean to me. We're more than friends, we're family. Life is good, you are loved and things do get better. Anyway, happy reading, everyone!

_ My mouth was so dry, and the cold was so intense that my lips had cracked, bled and dried days ago. The pain of every step and tug at the ropes felt like a renewed blow, and all I wanted was to lay down and sleep. I didn’t care anymore what happened to me. Or to the others.  _

_ We were linked in a chain, and I didn’t know if my fingers were numb from the cold or the bonds. I used to worry about losing them. But the Hanged Men showed me there were worse things.  _

_ We couldn’t work anymore, and I knew where they were taking us. Up the mountain, where I watched neighbors and strangers alike be taken for disposal. I could hear the crow calls as their bodies, strung from the rock faces, were picked clean and fell in pieces from where they had been hung by their ankles and left to the exposure. The cold or the impact on the rock face was what took them. I kept going back and forth between praying for a way out or for a quick end. I would rather the rock than the cold.  _

_ There were two behind me, boys not old enough to be out of school. I could guess the oldest was fourteen, but they were both so thin and dirty like me that dignified traits like age weren’t discernible anymore. The youngest one was crying. It was the only sound except for the crows. _

_ But then the crows were silent.  _

_ We kept walking, but I felt something and stopped. I didn’t know what I was looking for. Something kept asking in my head, why have the crows stopped? But one of them stepped forward with his gun and cracked me in the back. “I didn’t say you could stop, heathen!” She spat, and pointed it right in my face.  _

_ Like an idiot, I said to her, “The birds are quiet. Why?” The barrel of a gun between my eyes was commonplace. _

_ “He’s lost it. Just shoot him here and leave him.” The other said tiredly.  _

_ “Fine,” she said, preparing to do just that. Then she paused. I could see the wheels turning in her head. “Hold on...he’s right. Why is it so quiet?” _

_ They looked around and scanned the trees. She turned away from me, and I heard a sound like air splitting and a thunk of something sharp piercing a body and she gasped once before sinking to the ground. A stick protruded from her chest, the end of it feathered.  _

_ “Shit! It’s them! They’re in the woods!”  _

_ Panic ensued. The last three Hanged tried to raise their weapons, but only a few shots were fired into empty trees as something moved in a blur, one with the forest. I never really got a look at them until it was over. I just sat there dumbly on my knees as each monster in white fell. And then I actually got to see  _ ** _them_ ** _ . _

_ They weren’t a spirit of the forest, ethereal and unknowable. They were a human person. They were smaller than I thought, and clad in furs and leaves strategically fixed to their muted clothing as they slicked forward. I saw a mask crafted of beaten wood, carved and painted to resemble a fox. But I could tell it was a woman, and she had endless dark eyes behind that mask as she cleaned her gleaming red blade.  _

_ “It’s okay,” her voice was soft, with an accent, as she approached the two cowering children. The older brother, I assumed since I never learned their names, hugged the littler one tight and did his best to appear like he could fight her. “They can’t hurt you. I’m going to help. It’s over now…”  _

_ She cut their bonds, and then mine. She took the time to use supplies from her pack to give us water and treat injuries, before she led us off trail to the bottom of the mountain. And there were more people waiting, with a Jeep that had seen better days. I think it was a ranger patrol car.  _

_ She wouldn’t leave the forest. Once we were safely taken by what was left of the Sleepy Peak police force, she was gone before I could ever thank her. The whole drive was like a dream. I was terrified at any moment, the Hanged would ambush us. Freedom wasn’t a real thing anymore.  _

_ But we made it to the Penitentiary. I heard rumors it had been retaken, but now I saw they were true. I saw regular people, not wearing damned white, guarding it’s walls and working to make something of it inside.  _

_ They helped us out of the car. I asked one of the officers, “Is there anyone in charge? A leader?” _

_ “You’d be thinking of Norstrom. He’s busy, but you may be able to talk later. For now, let’s get you to see our doctor. She’ll take good care of you three and find a place for you.”  _

* * *

“What was the doctors name?” Gwen asked, fervently writing down notes.

The old man watched her warily. “Willow Rowntree. She was a saint. Saved my hands. Her kindness astounded me...I didn’t think people like her existed anymore.”

“And the Fox? What was her accent?”

“English, I think.” He picked up their coffee mugs and Gwen quickly clicked her pen and stood up, “Oh, I can do that.”

“Thank you, dear.” He gratefully sat back down. He had to be in his seventies, and she wondered if his memory was reliable but Mr. Gartner told it with vivid emotion that couldn’t be simulated. The kind of trauma was never forgotten. As Gwen rinsed their dishes and took up the task of washing them, she tried to recollect all the stories that were uniquely horrifying but all the same. He was one of so many. And one of the lucky. It was so surreal, this peaceful little town of farmers markets and parks filled with laughing kids, surrounded by the most beautiful wilderness was once the site of such horrors. And that she had never heard of them before she came to work at Camp Campbell.    
  
It reminded her of the crime shows she watched, the hundreds of serial killers that existed that never made infamy like the major names. The world was so big, but the right people made sure they never got such remembrance for their atrocities. And this place was the same. Once they were clean, he was back up on his rickety feet and ready to see her to the door. “Did that help with your project at all?”   
  
“I think it does. And thank you for telling me your story. I know it was far from easy, and-- I really do genuinely appreciate it. And I did mean it when I said it’s for a good cause.”   
  
He surprised her by taking her hand and patting it with a tired smile. “Oh, I believe you. It’s noble of you to take this on. I hope you’ll be able to help your friend find out what happened to their family...and it felt good to share it with someone.”   
  
She was surprised, almost uncomfortable but it was a sweet human moment. “I’ll be in town for a while yet,” she said, feeling awkward but really wanting to do more than just listen. But listening was all Gwen had. “And you have my number now, so if you ever want some company…”   
  
“I’ll be sure to call if I do.”   
  
“Are you all by yourself in this big house?”   
  
“Good heavens, no. I have eleven grandchildren! They check in all the time, and they’re all going to be here with their families for Christmas. That’s real survival, miss. Making it through and growing past it.”   
  
That warmed an icy spot in her heart. Gwen said goodbye and headed back to her beat up rental car, which she got for a dime for the month but it had to do. Once inside, she consulted her notes again. _ It’s just too many eye witnesses. She wasn’t a legend, she was a real person, a vigilante! There were no state marshals! They were butchered on day one. It was  _ ** _her_ ** _ . And regular people that rallied...who was Norstrom? That sounds familiar. But I still haven’t gotten the leader’s name _ .    
  
She needed to rest her eyes from the same crazy-person touched notes she had been scouring over and over again for connections for days. Gwen put the portfolio under the seat securely and turned her phone back on to see what she had missed.   
  
_ (5) Missed Calls from David _ _   
_ _ (1) Missed Call from Gummy(Brat)Bear _ _   
_ _ (3) Voice Messages _ _   
_ _ (7) Text Messages From: David _   
  
“Fuck.” she skimmed the text messages.   
  
**David: Hi Gwen! Super excited for lunch, little guy misses you. See you soon!** **   
** **David: Max wants to know if Missy and Winnie can have a playdate. I told him I’m pretty sure she’s with your dad but if there’s a chance…** **   
** **David: Running late? All ok?**   
  
And then she remembered a not too long ago conversation about visiting her two boys. David would cook, they would talk and spend time together like a regular family would. But she had completely forgotten. Weighted with guilt, she didn’t even check the voicemails but quickly peeled backwards out of the driveway and desperately consulted her mental map of the town. She was on the other side, and David’s house bordered the edge, so she didn’t make it for twenty minutes. She saw his car was there, and she stumbled out of her own and up the steps and almost tried the door before she remembered the system.   
  
She could disarm it, she was trusted with a key for emergencies but she didn’t feel it was right to just go in like she normally would. Gwen knocked nervously, and she heard voices shortly after, followed by the door being loudly yanked open, and the pressure of the warm interior was pierced by the winter chill. Max was glaring up at her. “You.  _ Bitch _ . You forgot about us, didn’t you?” he demanded.    
  
Gwen didn’t have a chance to answer before a very frantic David scurried into the front hallway. “Max! What did I say?!” He demanded, almost sounding mad but he only came off as upset. “No answering the door unless you know who it is!”   
  
“It’s Gwen. Or what’s left of her, apparently. Whoop-de-fucking doo.” Max started to shut the door in her face but David stopped him. Before he could get scolded, Max turned on his heel and abandoned the scene, leaving Gwen feel impossibly more ashamed. “I forgot,” she said unnecessarily. “I’m sorry, David, I got sidetracked but I swear it was important. I’m here now, though!”   


“Come inside before you get a cold,” David ushered her in and closed the door. The house smelled like something _good_ and Gwen realized just how hungry she was. Did she skip breakfast again? “Are you okay?” David cut into her thoughts.    
  
“What?” she looked at him, blinking as she tried to focus on his voice.   
  
“Um...Gwen, have you seen yourself recently?”    
  
Gwen slowly looked at the decorative mirror on the wall of the foyer and answered the question. Dark circles under her eyes, her hair was getting greasy and the jaw clip could have more structural integrity. Her clothes were obviously slept in, and she also noticed there was toothpaste on her collar. “Oh.”   
  
She couldn’t even resist as David helped her coat off and hung it up, “Do you want to shower or something? You still have some clothes in the guest room, I washed them. Maybe take a nap.”   
  
That all sounded great and completely out of the question. “What about Max?” she asked, trying to scratch the paste off to no avail.    
  
“He was worried something had happened to you. Give him an hour or two, he’ll just be glad you’re safe and be over it by then.” His voice was so even and convincing, that magical tone that he never failed to find that put her at ease. It was so close to having no effect anymore. She felt like a fuse burning from both ends, and the last explosion that would render her and everything nearby to pieces was imminent. On top of all that, she couldn’t even keep promises to Max anymore. “Gwen?” David prompted, reaching over and touching her arm ever so lightly. It was plenty to draw her attention and Gwen looked at him, at his sweet concerned smile.    
  
_ We both look so tired. _ “Have you heard of that urban legend? The Fox of Sleepy Peak?” she blurted it out, the overwhelming contents of her brain spilling over with a potential receptacle in front of her. She searched his face for any semblance of recognition, but he just looked at her, dumbfounded. “It’s just a story,” he said slowly. “People make them up to explain shadows in the woods all the time, but it’s not real.”   
  
Quick to deny... _ Oh, no. You don’t know something, do you, David? _ “I disagree. I’ve been asking around--”   
  
“Yeah, my aunt told me. She actually asked me to talk to you about it.”   
  
Gut punch. “She has a problem with it, then? She wanted my help investigating.” Gwen said, crossing her arms stubbornly.    
  
“I think she meant something along the lines of your statement, not to start a vigilante reporter project.” David laughed, short and light, and  _ obviously  _ forced. “But I’m inclined to side with her on this one. People who survived what happened generally want to stay in the present and not remember the past if they can. Going around interviewing them about their trauma, especially an out-of-towner, might not be taken well.”   
  
“Are you telling me to knock it off? I’m doing this for--!” She stopped herself before she made things worse. _ For Max and Rishima _ . She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. “Sorry. I know you kind of just have to do what she asks of you...Shouldn’t get mad at you.”   
  
“Um, I don’t  _ have  _ to do what she asks me. I just like to, she’s family and she mostly knows best.”   
  
“Sure. I’m gonna shower after all.”

She didn’t give him time to answer, just made a beeline to the stairs and marched up them, skipping a step with each stride to make it quicker. She could hear Max playing music _ very loudly  _ through the door of his room, much in the stereotypical fashion a slighted preteen would. Gwen stopped and stared at the wood, debating whether or not to try to reason with him. In the end, she didn’t. David was probably right about him just needing time to cool off. 

When she did get out the shower, she found her clothes impeccably folded on the guest best, similarly to when they used to be co-counselors. David did the bulk of the chores, claiming he preferred to, and when she did slip the odd article of clothing into his basket, she always found it clean, pressed and folded on her bunk again without a word. She used to feel bad about taking advantage of his helpfulness, but David seemed to like giving those small gestures of care. Maybe he needed to in order to feel worthy or something. 

Was that what Aster was doing? Using his naturally considerate personality against him? Gwen didn’t doubt that oddball loved David, and Max too. David’s patchwork family was easy to judge for someone on the outside, but even with that in mind, Gwen remained concerned. She wanted to trust Aster because David did, yet she just couldn’t shake off suspicion of her intentions.

Gwen pushed down her concerns and tried to make use of the means given to make herself presentable. She did feel better, even if it was only a small difference. What she wouldn’t give to sleep for a long time and not dream either, so she could reset her brain. But that was a fleeting possibility.    
  
Once dressed, she braved the walk back downstairs to face David before he got concerned and came up to check on her. He was quietly putting dishes away, the sound of china tinkling gently through the room but there was still a plate on the table. A panini, with apple and carrot salad, and a cup of her favorite tea. “Is that for me?” she asked.   
  
“Mmhm,” he hummed quietly, turning glasses so the open side was down and then closing the cabinet. His lack of chattiness made her skin prickle with unease. Gwen quickly sat down and watched him hang up his apron, and then claim the chair across from her, cradling his own mug in his hands but she could tell from one look it was cold. “Is this when you give me a dressing down for all my meddling?” she asked, trying to be joking but it just came off with a bitchy tone.   
  
“That’s why I’m supposed to do, but I’m not your nanny. I’m your friend...I just want to know why, Gwen.” There was a plaintive note in the word why that made her insides twinge. “You’re acting like you’re obsessed with something that has absolutely nothing to do with you or us, and that isn’t like you. Ever since Rishima, you’ve been--” he hesitated. Gwen stiffened. He saw that. And powered on. “Erratic.”   
  
“Could you fucking blame me if I’m not perfectly collected?” Gwen hissed, digging her fork into the ramekin dish of sweet, horse-radishy goodness. She loved David’s apple and carrot salad recipe. But she was so not hungry anymore. “I can’t just leave Sleepy Peak and go home, not after what happened.”   
  
“You have school and a life, don’t put it all on a shelf for this. I know how you’re feeling--”   
  
“I don’t think you do,” Gwen didn’t mean to snap, but the words lashed out like crackles of electricity, unforgivingly cold with a searing burn to finish it off. “Yeah, you’ve lost people and it’s fucking horrible, but at least you knew it was coming. At least there was no one to blame!”   
  
“Gwen!” David exclaimed, rightfully horrified but she just went on.   
  
“But I _knew_ she wasn’t safe, I knew he was going to do something fucking evil because that’s what he _is_, and I still. Let it. _Happen_. I wasn’t there. And if I had been, Max would still have a mom. He would get a chance to tell her off in person or even for her to make it up to him, if that’s possible,  _ but we’re never going to know that now! _ ”

The walls seemed to lean back from her raised voice. If a house could raise its eyebrows and say  _ yikes _ , this one just did. The outburst left her winded and trembling, grinding the utensil until David reached over and touched his warm fingers to hers. Like magic, they released and he moved her otherwise untouched lunch out of the way. Even with how terrible she had just been to him, he didn’t scold her. He didn’t walk away. He left his chair to go to her side and gently draped his arms around her, tucking her head under his chin and holding her together until the worst of it was over. 

“I just need to put the pieces together,” she whispered against his sleeve, tears just on the verge of falling but she wouldn’t let them. “I can prove he belongs in a cage. I can put him there. I just need to find something and it’s here. I can’t explain it, David, but I know in my fucking  _ soul _ , I can find the answers.”   
  
“You want revenge.”   
  
“I want justice, there’s a difference.”   
  
“It’s a fine line made of gossamer thread that only a few people are able to see to keep from crossing it.”   
  
“Poetic. Read that somewhere?”   
  
“Aster.”   
  
_ Of course it’s an Aster quote _ . “What does Aster know about it?” she demanded, pulling back from him. David deliberately avoided her eyes, and she reached up, gripping the front of his shirt for his attention. “What do  _ you  _ know?”   
  
She could feel his hummingbird heartbeat under her fingers, and saw him nervously lick his lips, swallow and blink too often. “That saying, that history is written by the victors...and she’s the victor.”   
  
“...What the f--”   
  
His ardent green eyes snapped back to hers and he startled her with how quickly he grabbed her hand, how fierce and guttural his voice became in desperation for her to take his meaning and believe it. “I also know that she was my mother's best friend in this whole world, and she has always been there for me. She raised me. She always came through, she always kept me safe, she  _ never  _ turned her back on the people she loves.”   
  
“And if she turns out to be keeping secrets from you?”

“I trust her.”   
  
“Take your hand off me, David.”   
  
He did. As he stepped back to let her stand up, quaking in his shoes at the notion that his family might not be who he thought, Gwen remembered where she had heard the name before. “Norstrom,” she said.   
  
Apprehension and bewilderment laced through his features. “Yeah…?”   
  
“Norstrom,” she repeated more aggressively.   
  
“That’s my father’s surname, what about it?”   
  
Despite it all, a delighted grin pierced Gwen’s face as she turned on her heel and marched out to her car, passing an indignant Max in the hallway. “Hey!” he said, as she pushed past him, but she was on a mission. She pulled her notes from the passenger seat and both boys were crowded in the front foyer, and they bombarded her with concerned or irate questions as she flounced back down in her chair and tossed the papers down. As she took a triumphant bite of a delicious chicken caprese panini, David scampered back into the kitchen. “Gwen, what on ear--”    
  
He trailed off as the reading comprehension kicked in. “I-I don’t understand,” he stammered out.    
  
“Wasn’t your dad a cop? In fact, weren’t he and Aster _ partners? _ ”

David was just uselessly opening and closing his mouth like a fish, until Max marched up, all narrowed eyes and grimace. He took one look between the two of them and reached out, snapping the folder shut. “Leave him alone, Gwen, before you break him.”   
  
“Upstairs,” David said, very, very softly.   
  
“What?”   
  
“Go upstairs, Max.”   
  
Gwen studied the kids face and as he looked at her for clarification, she decided excluding him was not only pointless but also a liability. “Want the other half?” she asked, and he claimed the sandwich half as soon as it was offered. It only took a minute of the two of them staring David down before he slowly and numbly sat down. “I have no idea what’s going on,” he said, his expression and voice pained as he ran a hand through his hair haphazardly. “Honest, Gwen.”   
  
“What do you know about your dad?”   
  
“Literally what’s on that paper! I heard stories about him on and off, but Aster never gave away much detail. I don’t think they were even truly friends, they were professional with each other and Granda hates him. But nobody else in town even really knew him, and as far as I know, he had no living family in America. So it’s a dead end.”   
  
Max’s elbow met her arm and she looked down at him, seeing him shaking his head so sharply yet almost imperceptibly, telling her to leave it alone. In his own way, he was just as protective of David as it was the other way around. His mannerisms were so heartachingly identical to Rishima’s, the microexpressions they both made that communicated so much when they were so precise with the things they did say out loud.    
  
_ Why Sleepy Peak? Why didn’t you send him out of state, or at least further away? _ Gwen had asked her.   
  
Rishima has mulled over her answer in silence for so long that Gwen was about to give up on getting one at all until she whispered in her feather soft voice,  _ because it’s the only place in the world with people that can still stand up to  _ ** _him_ ** . 

  
Gwen reached out on instinct and started fixing his hair out of his eyes, and Max’s expression fizzled out into uncomfortable bewilderment. “Gwen?” he reached up and grabbed her hand to stop it, but didn’t let go. She saw him connecting the dots in his head, because nothing ever stayed unsolved with Max for long. He caught on. Always. “Is this about  _ me? _ ”   
  
“A little, but not in a bad way, I think.” she chose her words so carefully, because nothing changed that in a lot of ways, Max was very fragile at the moment. “Your mom told me she sent you  _ here  _ for a reason. She didn’t say much, but she did tell me that she knew there were good people here who knew about your father.”   
  
Max instantly tossed his gaze down to the floor, like he nearly always did whenever Sunil came up. “People who knew how to protect you from him,” she added, squeezing his hand to comfort him. “I’m just trying to figure out who these people are.”   
  
The three of them shared a tense quiet that was broken by David picking up his phone from the table and the soft  _ clak-clak-clak _ of him typing out a message filled it, then the _woosh_ of the text going out. A moment later, it pinged back with a response. Max looked up when David laid a hand on his shoulder and smiled at him, “We’re all going to Granda’s for dinner. We can ask him about this stuff then, okie doke?”   
  
“ ‘Kay,” Max said very, very quietly.    
  
It took a little coaxing to get him back, but eventually Max was talking normally and meeting eyes again, once they had shifted to the living room and settled in front of the T.V to wait until it was time to go. They nestled him comfortably on the couch between them, and a weight eased off of Gwen’s heart when Max leaned against her side almost casually, like he had never even been mad. David gave her a silent look with a soft smile and knowing shine in his eyes that said  _ I told you he would get over it _ , and she scrunched her nose at him to say  _ shut up _ . 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! It took me a while to get around my writers block. And then I proceeded to get six stitches in my hand+a small laceration to the tendon in my pointer finger. My hand is fine...and I am now in self-isolation. The world is wild. Nothing is really knew with me! Anyway, hope you all enjoy this butt load of angst. Apologies if the pacing is weird, I was trying for something a little more jarring/staggering to go with the mood.

Max loved to wander Adaire’s cabin. He had spent more time there now that David and his grandfather were back on good terms, and each time he walked its halls, he always found something interesting and new. It was only the second cabin he had ever been inside, but it was (thank God) drastically different from Campbell’s. It lacked anything that could remind someone of the vices of the modern world and had a familial touch. Pictures everywhere, antiques and memorabilia on every hand-made shelf that each had a story behind them that he was curious to ask Adaire about next, who was the  _ best  _ storyteller. And the books, so. Many. _Books_. Adaire had built a library from the ground up as an addition to the cabin as a wedding gift to his wife, and even Max could admit that was pretty god damn romantic. She promptly set to work filling its space with a lifetime’s worth of reading material.    
  
It was a forest he was content to get lost in. After the necessary hellos, he was allowed to retreat to it while David helped in the kitchen to the blissfully quiet sanctum that smelled of aged paper and oak. He ran his fingers along the spines, reading the titles with a quick eye and waiting for something to catch. There was the distant rumble and chatter of voices over the pots and pans as dinner got underway, but he had time and Adaire had granted him a muffin to tide him over until then. He was careful not to drop crumbs or make a mess in this room that was clearly sacred, a word he once dropped from his vocabulary. But it just described it so well.   
  
It wasn’t so long ago Max never believed anything could be sacred, holy or special. But since he started living with David, he began to see those things were real. They just varied from person to person. It reminded him of David’s office, with the sound walls and traces of him everywhere to remind Max that he was never far and because of that maybe he was  _ safe _ . He could let the intrusive thoughts go and sink into pages until he was ready to go back to reality. When Max was surrounded by books, he felt inexplicably comforted no matter the circumstances. He didn’t have any other way to make sense of that feeling than to call it special.    
  


He craned his neck back to look at the higher shelves, where adults typically placed things they didn’t want smaller hands getting ahold of.  _ Hold on, _ he thought and squinted, unsure if what he was looking at.  It looked like there was a rectangular panel in the ceiling. A cut out of wood, framed similar to a door, nestled just over the case. Aster had something similar in her house and Max remembered she pushed it open with a broom stick, then climbing up on a ladder to get their Halloween decorations. In David’s house, there was a small rope that pulled down a folding ladder instead.    
  
_ Something tells me that he left the attic out of the tour on purpose _ , Max thought and looked back at the door. He heard Adaire’s belly-deep laugh and the faint clunk of a knife against a butchers block as David chopped vegetables. He probably had about twenty minutes before the needy idiot came to check on him,  _ which he didn’t need to do _ . 

Max tested the back of the case and felt smug to find it was anchored to the wall. Expert carpentry can backfire like that. If he was careful and took it slow, he was able to use the shelves like a ladder. It wasn’t easy; there was little space left between the books and the edge for footholds, and it made the ends of his fingers ache to hold so tightly but he braced himself anyway and made it to the top. He couldn’t quite fit between the ceiling and the case, but he was able to hold onto it with one hand and pushed the panel with the other. It gave with only a slight stick and the stale, cold air that met his face made him blink and almost cough.    
  
He doubted Adaire made it up there much, what with his bad knee and how old he was getting. Max strained to shuffle the panel along the attic floor until it was a space large enough for him to climb through. It was precious to reach for it but once he had a grip, he put all his might into one very impressive chin up and stifled a groan of effort as he successfully hauled himself through the opening.    
  
“Ow,” he muttered, splintery wood pricking his palms but he brushed the fragments off and stood up gingerly. It was so dark, it almost felt like it was rising up to meet him in clouds and filling his eyes with the blackness. He didn’t move around until he was shining his phone flashlight through but he turned the brightness down in case there was a vent or something it might shine through. _ I’m definitely not allowed up here _ . It was a mixture of guilt and giddiness to be up to no good again. Old habits died hard.   
  
It was the usual things people kept in attics. Christmas decorations, old boxes of papers, forgotten tools and the like. There were some books that were yellowing and starting to fall into disrepair, which made Max a little sad. He tread with soft footsteps he earned in the woods once upon an involuntary camping trip along the length of the room, which seemed to stretch over almost the entire top of the cabin. There was a small circular window that he knew belonged to the front of the house, clouded over with years of tarnish from the outdoors and lack of care from within. A little light still managed to pierce through its panes, illuminating things covered with sheets and some trunks. They were the only things Max couldn’t see through plastic containers or out in the open, so they were of course all he was interested in.    
  
As he began to peek under the sheets, he reminded himself that he liked Adaire. He was cool and funny, and easy to spend time with. But he also remembered he wasn’t infallible. However David tried to not speak ill of the man, it didn’t stop Max from knowing he made choices that  _ hurt  _ David. It didn’t rest easy with him. Maybe he could understand he didn’t mean it or he had good reasons, but ever since he found out what Gwen had hidden, it sat in Max’s stomach as well as a rotten fish head might.   
  
He firmly believed that if Adaire or Aster were hiding things, David had the right to know. And if Gwen wasn’t being paranoid, she deserved the vindication. If Max’s mother really did send him to Sleepy Peak for a reason…   
  
“Jackpot,” he whispered, kneeling down in front of a locked box that was clearly hidden in the darkest corner. He couldn’t pick the lock but he turned it around to find the hinges on the back fastened with screws. It was a pain in the ass to work his pocket knife as a screwdriver but it paid off as he pulled them loose and the hinges came undone.    
  


* * *

  
  
When David was twelve or so, he hit a bout of insomnia like a boat skidding across rocky shoals. Firmly stuck, and his structural integrity ripping away like tissue paper. His grades dropped, his mood tanked, he was miserable and it didn’t matter what he tried. The only thing that helped was when Granda would drive him all over Sleepy Peak late at night until the lull put him out, and his grandfather carried him up to tuck him in. But a bad knee made this a limited luxury.    
  
Max had a similar dependency on long, late night drives through the trees. It didn’t make him tired but it made him more open, so David made sure to turn onto the more scenic route when they left Granda’s house, and put the radio on more quietly than usual. Max was curled up with his feet on the seat, staring out the window with his forehead pressed against the glass, his mind clearly still miles away. “Are you feeling okay, buddy?” David asked tentatively. “You hardly ate your dinner. And you’ve been pretty quiet.”   
  
“I just wasn’t feeling like it,” Max muttered, as he dug his hood free from his seat belt and crammed it over his head to hide his face. David put on the windshield wipers to clear away the falling snow, and slowed down a bit. The roads definitely hadn’t been plowed yet, and he didn’t want to go sliding off into the trees. “Whatever you’re thinking about, you can always talk it out with me, Max.” he said as gently as he could. “I want to help.”   
  
Max slowly slid his feet to rest on the floor again and leaned off the window, staring down at his knees. David kept catching glances of his troubled face through the rear view mirror. “Lying is bad.”   
  
_ Um-- _ David focused on the road as Max went into a halting monologue, verbally working out his thoughts for himself. “I don't’ know how people can be so certain about that. Sometimes you just  _ can’t  _ tell the truth, because it could hurt someone or you need to hide it to keep yourself safe. I didn’t start out a liar because I like tricking people, David, I--I just didn’t have a lot I could do to protect myself but making people think what I needed them to...Then I realized it made me feel like I had control and it turned into something I always did. Just...because. But I decided that I don’t want to do it anymore.”   
  
David never wanted to assume the worst, but Max was talking like he was guilty of something. “You don’t have to, Max.”   
  
“But I think I might.” His voice wavered.    
  
“Why? Is there something you haven’t told me?”   
  
“There’s a lot of things I haven’t told you,” Max scoffed, a mirthless laugh. “But this is different.”   
  
“Did something happen?” Now he was getting worse than worried, he was  _ scared _ . 

When Max didn’t answer, that fear manifested itself into a weight and he pressed down on the brake, sliding to the shoulder of the road and cramming the gear into park, ignoring its resistance, ignoring that he might break it if he wasn’t careful like usual with the old machinery. “David--” Max started, and he didn’t mean to be so curt about it but David just lifted a hand for him to stop and he did. He took a slow, deep breath to calm himself down. He wasn’t willing to beat around the bush if it was something serious. “You’re okay,” he said, resting his hand on the wheel again. “I’m just going to ask you this once, and I really, really need you to be honest, Max. I swear whatever it is, I’m not going to be angry.”   
  
“You might be…”   
  
“No, I’m not.” David undid his seatbelt so he could turn around and reach back and set his hand on Max’s knee, trying to reassure him somehow. “Did something happen?”   
  
Max flitted his eyes up to meet his for a second, his expression drawn and nervous as he huddled his arms tight against his chest like he was in pain. Then, slowly and uncertainly, Max unzipped his sweatshirt and pulled something out. It crinkled quietly and David didn’t realize what it was at first until he turned on the interior light above them and saw it was a bundle of papers.    
  
Envelopes, he corrected himself, as Max silently held them out for him to take. He did, and he turned them over, careful not to tear the ancient rubber band keeping them together. The first had a postal date as recent as a year ago, and he looked for the address but everything narrowed down to a tiny needle-point detail.    
  
_ Recipient: David Christopher Rowntree _ _   
_ _ Sender: Peter Norstrom _

His fingers were rattling. He looked through them all, so many, going back years and every single one of them still sealed, all address to him. All from Peter. “Where did you get these?” he asked, his voice sounding far away.    
  
Max shut his eyes, and pulled his hood down over them, his entire form wearing a fine layer of shame. “I stole them,” he whispered.   
  
“From who?” David couldn’t keep the sharpness out of his voice.    
  
“Adaire,” it was so soft, it was barely there at all. 

He didn’t know how long he sat there in shellshocked silence or if Max tried to talk to him at all. But all at once, the world hit play again and he threw the letters down on the passenger seat and turned off the light. He just had to get home. He didn’t know what he was going to do, but Max needed to eat something, go to bed and have a good deal of distance away from David because he felt his pulse jabbing in his throat like the timer on a bomb about to go.    
  
He must have been speeding a little, because they got they sooner than expected. And he must have slammed the drivers door because when he opened the back, the first thing Max blurted out was, “I’m sorry!”   
  
And David stopped.    
  
What did he look like right now? Silent and furious? In Max’s eyes, maybe even _violent?_   
  
He wanted to kneel down and talk with him gently, hug him if he was allowed, but he physically just couldn’t. All he could do was pry his hand from the door and say stiffly, “Don’t be,” and usher Max out. Max turned around in the walkway, trying to go on, “I didn’t mean to start shit, David, I shouldn’t have been sneaking around, I’m sorry. Don’t get mad at your gran--”   
  
“It’s not your business.” Those were the wrong words. What David really meant was  _ it’s not your responsibility to worry, you’re a kid and we’re the grown ups _ . But that wasn’t what he said and it wasn’t what Max heard. Gwen opened the door with all the expectations in the world on her face but before she could even get a  _ hey  _ out, Max pushed past her and couldn’t get up the stairs to his room fast enough. Couldn’t  _ hide  _ fast enough.   
  
“The fuck happened?” Gwen asked, staring at the space he previously was and turning on the porch light. David’s feet grew roots to keep him from crossing the threshold into warmth and company. He forgot how to breathe. He forgot tactfulness and context as he looked at her and processed one crucial fact; he could leave Max alone with her.   
  
“I can’t stay here right now,” was all he said before he turned on his heel and went back to the idling car. Gwen called after him. Twice. He ignored her both times as he got into the car, peeled out of the drive in reverse and set off to...he didn’t know where.

* * *

  
  
The snow sprinkled down to the ground in a glimmering trail as David’s gloved fingers pushed it from the edge of the stone. He took the time to kneel down in the snow, the cold of it locked just beyond the dense fabric of his pants but it wouldn’t be kept out long. He felt blanketed in the quiet of winter. When so much snow lay on everything, it created a cushion that muffled all the sounds nearby and that was why everything was so much softer. But David always believed there was more to it than just simple physics. The world was sleeping. He felt the sighing breaths of its slumber in the wind that passed through brittle grey branches and the tired, low hanging cloud cover that wouldn’t budge.

He took the yellowed paper from inside his jacket, still bundled together with a rubber band, the seals never broken. He had noticed right away there was no return address on any of them but each time he looked, it was the only place his eyes were drawn. 

“I always think about the things I wish I could ask you,” he said, his voice never reaching far in the night. “Sometimes they’re small. Like how do I fix scratches on the coffee table legs or what do I do when I put too much salt in soup? But then I can just ask Granda, because he knows. I still have him. Except there’s questions he can’t answer, questions I can only ask you but I  _ can’t  _ ask you,” David’s voice trembled. “Because you aren’t here anymore. I’ll never be able to ask you if you wanted me to know him. I can’t ask if he was kind and made you happy, if he was  _ good _ . I just have to live with nothing to fill that.”

Tears stung bitter cold at the rims of his eyelids and he clenched his jaw so tightly his teeth squeaked with the pressure. He blinked in vain to stop his vision from blurring gone, but as he was met with more silence, he couldn’t stop it. “I’m all grown up, can you see?” he was breathless. “I made it this far, even though it doesn’t feel like it sometimes. I feel like I’m so _fragile_, Mom. I don’t feel like your brave smiling boy, I haven’t felt like that in so long that I can’t remember it at all. There’s days where nothing is good and I just want to scream and cry and rip everything around me down because it’s all  _ wrong _ .  _ I’m wrong _ . But I can’t be wrong anymore, because now I-- I have a son, maybe? I hope so. If it was just me, I could make this choice so much easier but I don’t get to face the consequences  _ alone _ . If I let anyone into my life, then I’m letting them into Max’s.”   
  
He peeled off his glove to press his hand against the cold stone, stinging his calloused palm and sending frozen jolts up his wrist, goosebumps prickling his arm. This was stupid. It was cold enough for frostbite to set in quickly, especially with the wind but it somehow grounded him. “I wish you could tell me what to do,” the tears stopped and he rested his forehead on the stone, breathing as deeply as he could, the frigid air stinging in his lungs. He stared down at his knees in the snow and slowly rubbed his thumb over the elastic band of the letters.    
  
Slowly, so very slowly, he tugged it off and shuffled them until he found the earliest date. He breathed deep once more, and began to slide his thumb along the seal to break it.

  
  


* * *

_Crash_. “Fuck!” _Crash_. “Dammit!” _Crash_. No curse this time.    
  
Gwen rubbed her eyes and steeled herself for whatever world ending tantrum she was about to face and twisted the knob. It wasn’t locked, which surprised her, but she was grateful anyway as she inched it open but didn’t look. “Max? I’m coming in.”   
  
“No, don’t! Get out of here!”   
  
“It sounds like you’re having a one-man riot. Just let me make sure you’re physically okay.”   
  
“I said get the fuck out, Gwen! Leave me alone!” Halfway through her name, his voice jumped in a way she knew well. She opened the door the rest of the way to see most of his books scattered on the floor and kicked across it in the midst of his frenzy, and his eyes glistening wet, his face flushed from all the activity. He took one look at her and snatched up a book so he could hurl it in her direction. It went wide and bounced off the wall, knocking down the spirit stick mounted on it. 

  
“You done?” she asked calmly, and closed the door behind her.    
  
He was silent, except for heavy breathing. Not ready to talk about it, she noted so she just bent down and began to gather the books up. Bit by bit, she placed them on the shelf back into their rightful place. Soon, a pair of smaller hands joined in her efforts. His eyes were dry but his jaw clenched tight, as Max silently began to clean up after his meltdown. He met her eyes for a second, almost said something but didn’t and went to put his spirit stick back where it belonged. 

Once his room resembled a form of order, Gwen made a spat for herself on the floor to look at the titles he had collected and Max settled down next to her. “You’d like that one,” he muttered, pointing to one on the upper shelf.    
  
“I do like that one,” she said and smiled down at him. “I read it in sixth grade.”   
  
She lifted her hand towards his back, and he shot a look at her. “Don’t bite me,” she said, and he half-smiled. He let her run her fingers up and down along his spine in a soothing fashion her dad used to do for her, as he rested his head on his knees. “I fucked up,” he said after a while.   
  
Gwen scooted closer so she could fully wrap her arm around him and pull him close against her side. “I knew Adaire wasn’t going to tell David a thing, so I started sticking my nose where it didn’t belong and I found something.”   
  
_ Oh, shit.  _ “A bad something?” she asked, brushing a wayward curl behind his ear.    
  
“I don’t know.” Max brought his hands up to rub at his eyes, pressing the heels against them as he breathed in shudders. “But I told David.”   
  
“Is that what he’s upset about?”   
  
Max nodded once. “I was just trying to help.” he whispered against her shirt and Gwen pulled him into a full hug, her heart aching profoundly on his behalf. She didn’t what to say that could help keep him from being discouraged. He was trying so hard to grow but it didn’t matter to Max if he had anything to show for it. She knew how it felt to never be able to focus on the accomplishments, because the failures were that much more overwhelming. “He knows that,” she said.    
  
Gwen looked out the window into the winter night, wondering what the hell could have caused David to just  _ leave  _ Max like that. “On the plus side of him running away, that means I can give you a shit ton of ice cream right before bed.”   
  
Max sat up with a heavy sigh and studied the floor for a moment longer before getting to his feet. He followed her downstairs, and she made him cozy on the couch in front of the T.V, assuming David wouldn’t be back for a while. Max muttered a soft, “Thanks, Gwen,” as she put the bowl of dessert into his hands.    
  
She had a list of questions, but she didn’t ask a single one. Gwen just kept vigil, and watched through the front window for headlights.

* * *

David felt his heart doing its best to wrench itself out through his throat. It beat harshly like the footsteps of a great beast pacing to be free from a cage, and his hand shook so badly he had to take a moment to pause and  _ breathe.  _ There was a quiet murmur in the pub around him, since it was so late at night.  _ So late.  _ Max was probably asleep. He should be home. He should have tucked him in and read to him, and stayed until he was snoring, making sure he felt safe. But he was here.

A drink and a half spurred his nerve. He almost never drank, but David was desperate to go through with this and he couldn't let himself back out for lack of courage. Chances were that it wasn’t even going to work, so what did he have to be afraid of?

He picked up the pay phone and slipped the necessary amount of change in, earning a dial tone in response. Every number he pushed was a struggle with unsteady hands. It rang, hollow and crackly in the old device. He held his breath as it stopped and a voice answered, a man’s voice, gravely and maybe old enough to fit. 

_ “Yeah?” _

David opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. His heart filled the noise. 

_ “I can hear you breathing. What do you want?” _

David didn’t know. He didn’t think this through. He was panicking. “Peter Norstrom?” He asked, his voice squeaking.

A beat of silence. Then, low and angry,  _ “Who the hell is this? How did you get this number?!” _

“Y-you gave it to me.” David stammered out stupidly. He didn’t sound kind. Not even a  _ little.  _

_ “The  _ ** _fuck _ ** _ I did.”  _ He stopped. David started to take the phone away from his ear.  _ “Where are you calling from? Don’t lie.” _

“Sleepy Peak.”

David looked at the receiver and he heard the beginning of “Dav—?” Before he hung up abruptly.


	5. Final Chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shout out to DominusFero for spurring this chapter into early completion by giving me an angsty idea that I ran away with! The comments you guys leave seriously keep me going, I love all the support and feedback you give. Please, please keep commenting! I want to hear things you want to see me try out and your theories! See you all in the next part. I may switch from the five chapter format I've had to a ten chapter because things are more long winded than I thought they'd be. Anywho, happy reading!

The world spun wildly out of control and David was barely aware of something cold against the back of his neck as his stomach gave another lurch and its contents splattered into the toilet bowl. “M’dying,” he slurred miserably, as Aster patiently kept the washcloth in place. It felt great. “No, you’re not,” she said and folded his fringe back from his forehead with her other hand. “Get it all out and shush.”   
  
He went through every stage. All the food and liquor, then the bottom of the barrel, then dry heaving until Aster sat him back against the wall and held him upright until he could swallow the reflex down. She wiped his mouth with the washcloth roughly and he didn’t dare look her in the eyes. He could feel the combined fury of a police officer and a mother trying to scorch the skin off his face. “I’m sor--” he started and she slapped the cloth over his whole face.    
  
David peeled it off and watched her angrily fill a glass with water. “Answer me this, pup.” She said through bared teeth and faced him. “What in God’s name were you thinking?!”   
  
_ Oh. She’s yelling at me.  _ He thought, his head pounding as badly as his arm. With a caring and deliberate touch, she planted the cup in his hands, all the while launching into a lecture. “You could have killed yourself, or someone else! It would be bad enough if you did this just with the weather, but with a broken arm-- Davey, how could you be so stupid?! What if you crashed?”   
  
“I don’t know,” he said, his mouth bitter with the taste of regret and regurgitated whiskey.    
  
“What if one of my officers hadn’t answered the call? I cannot believe you could do this. I am so--”   
  
_ Please don’t. _ _   
_ _   
_ “Disappointed in you.”   
  
David closed his eyes and hugged the water glass, fighting back tears.  _ You’re right to be _ , he thought mournfully. “You could have gotten a DUI,” she went on, kneeling down in front of him, and taking his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. “Do you understand what that means? If that goes on your record and the school found out, you would be fired on the spot. Nobody in the district will hire you to work with children, and Max-- they would take him away from you for this!”   
  
His heart absolutely dropped and he looked up at her, feeling sick all over again.  _ No, no, no! Anything but that! _ “Will they?” he asked, his voice hoarse in a sore throat.   
  
“Nobody knows that would tell.” Aster shook her head, and wiped his sweaty hair back. “Davey, I am  _ begging  _ you, don’t put me in this position ever again. I could sweep this under the rug once, but never again, do you hear me?”   
  
“Yes, M--” He slurred into silence, his heart thumping. _ I didn’t just almost…? I really am soused _ . “Never again.” David recovered and he meant it.    
  
He groaned as she took his good arm and pulled him up to his feet, and he had to lean on her but she managed to get him out of the bathroom. He really didn’t think he would make it to the living room, but before he knew it, she was pulling his shoes off and lifting his legs onto the couch. “Aster?” David asked, something suddenly rearing up in the back of his mind as she fixed the pillow under his head. She hummed quietly while shaking out a blanket and laying it over him. “Have you ever lied to me?”   
  
She stared down at him, her eyes glinting in the dim lighting until she sat on the edge of the cushion and took his hand. She held it tight, running her fingers over the scars on his knuckles with a softness in her gaze. “I remember this one,” Aster murmured, touching where his middle knuckle had been so badly split open. “This is the one that taught you not to punch people in the mouth. The teeth will get you.”   
  
He remembered it, too. Wincing and hissing as she disinfected it and wrapped it up, clucking her tongue at him.  _ Why can’t you stop doing this, pup? _ _   
_ _   
_ _ You didn’t hear what they called us. The look on Luc’s face... _

_ I know how you feel, but it just isn’t worth it _ .

“I wanted to always be there for you, no matter how bad things were.” She interrupted the memory.

  
“You have been,” David said, bewildered. He didn’t think she was deflecting, just rambling as she sometimes did. It would get somewhere eventually. “I can tell you everything.”   
  
“But I don’t tell  _ you  _ everything,” she sighed. “I try to avoid ever having to lie to you, and I think I’ve done the best I can, but the truth is that I hide so much, Davey. It’s not that I don’t want you to know me completely...I’m--” Aster faltered. “I’m only in your life because I’m allowed to be on other people’s terms.”   
  
“What?”   
  
“It was never up to me how you were raised. I was only along for the ride...It wasn’t my right to dictate.”   
  
He couldn’t believe his ears. David sat up, regardless of how shitty he felt. Did she just think of herself as a bystander? “You’re as much my family as my mother was,” he said incredulously. “You always did what was best for me!”   
  
“I don’t know that I did.”   
  
“If you did something wrong, then tell me what it was and I’ll tell you if I agree or not!”   
  
“Shhh, shh, don’t work yourself up.” Aster tried to calm him and stood up. “You’re still drunk, and you just lost a lot of fluids. Sleep, and we’ll talk about this over tea in the morning.”   
  
He didn’t have the wherewithal anymore to argue, so David laid his head back and closed his eyes, begging to sleep to come quickly so he didn’t have to feel so dizzy anymore. He slipped away just before dawn, his sleep restless and twitchy. Deep down he kept thinking about jerking upright to deal with the consequences but his body felt like jello. Sometime around the early morning, Aster’s cool hand smoothed his hair and he heard her say, “I called Gwen, everything’s fine. Keep sleeping.” and it was gone. 

  
He had no idea what time it was but he opened his heavy eyes to something clinking by his ear and turned his head. Aster was setting a tray of tea and other fixings on it, and she cracked a tired smile. He could see the roughness around her eyes and a few stray hairs that gave her away; she never went to sleep. She probably worried about him all night. “Chamomile?” she offered, and he jarringly sat up and accepted the warm mug. It smelled so good. No one made a better cup than a Teabloom. “Thanks,” he said and smiled back at her.    
  
He felt much better as he nibbled on toast and eggs, and had something to drink that didn’t have alcohol in it. Aster gave him time to brush his teeth and take a brisk shower, and he wandered out blearily when he felt more put together. “Aunt Aster?” he called out.   
  
“Office,” she replied and he made his way there. She was pulling things out from the locked drawer of her desk, albums and whatnot. He slowed his feet to look at the photo she laid openly for him to see. His mother, her face young and joyful, a halo of carnival ride lights around her and her head adorned with a flower crown. She had her arms linked with someone; a tall, sturdy looking man with a scruffy face and neatly cut, if a little long, tawny brown hair, and his eyes a piercing dark hazel-green. He wasn’t even looking at the camera. He was looking at Willow and smiling.    
  
“Is that him?” David asked hoarsely. He was afraid to pick it up and look closer.    
  
Aster hummed confirmation, and laid out another. Same man, facial hair a bit denser, hair a bit longer, passed out in the porch swing of the house he lived in now, and a toddler equally exhausted on his chest with a mop of orange hair that would get darker as he grew up. David swallowed thickly. He wished he remembered what that felt like, but he was too small then to remember anything at all. “This doesn’t mean anything to me,” he said bitterly, trying to believe it.   
  
“You can look at more of them,” she said and laid down the album.    
  
He gave in. It was a forbidden tome of knowledge that he was finally allowed to touch, and he thumbed through the worn pages, shocked at the sheer quantity. He did notice that as much as there were plenty of Peter, who smiled a great deal in them, there were more of his mother.    
“He took these,” he breathed aloud. “Didn’t he?”   
  
“He wanted to have every moment captured. From the day you were able to start kicking in your mom’s belly, nothing else in the world meant more to him. He never put that camera down, I swear.”   
  
“That’s nonsense,” David shook his head, throat hurting. He blamed it on the night before.    
  
“He was a good police officer,” she went on like he wasn’t crumbling apart inside. “But he had to do and see things no human being should have and-- and we didn’t see how it scarred him until it was too late.”   
  
“You’re making excuses for him now?”    
  
“No,” she laid her hand on his arm. “I’m not defending him for leaving. But now you’re grown up and you’re the master of your own destiny. If you choose to meet him, that’s up to you. I just want you to have some idea of who he is first.”   
  
“He’s a stranger,” David pulled his arm away.   
  
“Do you want to know a secret?”   
  
“You mean do I want to hear you undo a lie?”    
  
It hurt. He saw that, but he couldn’t hold back the anger anymore. Aster nodded, murmuring  _ that’s fair  _ as she flexed her bad hand, clearly bothered by it. “My husband isn’t in that grave we visit. It’s empty.”   
  
He dropped the album on the desk and  _ stared  _ at her. She said it so lightly, like how someone commented on the grocery store being out of grapefruits, that it was something completely unremarkable. He watched her gaze fade away right past him, as she looked into a world he had never seen and probably never would. “We had been fighting for so long, no end in sight but he risked everything to give me that.”   
  
“Give...give you what?”   
  
“The chance to bury my husband,” Aster closed her eyes. “Except I couldn’t. My hand was healing and I hadn’t had anything to eat in two days by then. He let me rest, he gave me his coat and made a fire and told me to sleep and he would take care of it. He dug through that frozen earth until his hands were bleeding and raw. I got to say goodbye because of Peter.”   
  
David was speechless.  _ Jesus Christ _ . He took a half step towards her and froze as her eyes snapped open. He almost thought she didn’t know the person she was looking at and it wouldn’t be the first time she failed to recognize him. “I wouldn’t be here if he hadn’t been with me through all of that,” she whispered. “He was my friend and my  _ partner _ , and nobody knows what he did for these people. But I know.”   
  
“Stop,” he wrapped his arms around her, pleading with her as he did. “You don’t have to talk about this.”   
  
He couldn’t watch her go through this, to revisit memories that were like fresh wounds. He wanted answers so badly but not this way, not when it put her back into a time where death was just around the bend at all times. To live in fear and uncertainty, fighting for the barest definition of survival. Aster held him tightly, and for the first time in his life, David thought that she was  _ small _ . All his life he was looking up to her, trying to fill her shoes but he never felt quite grown up enough to do it. He tried to picture the girl decades ago shivering on a mountain side with a bandaged hand, weak and hungry and grieving, but she just didn’t exist to him. “Did you know you have his eyes?” she asked against his shoulder.   
  
“I didn’t,” he admitted. “But I kind of wondered.”   
  
“And you’re tall like him.”   
  
“Is he kind?” That was what he wanted to know most.    
  
“He tried very hard to be, but life was never as good to him.”

  
“Was he kind to  _ Mom _ ?”    
  
“ _ Yes _ . Yes, Davey, he was, you don’t have to be afraid of that...He brought her flowers at work all the time.”   
  
That surprised him. “Really? What kind?”   
  
“Larkspur.” she pulled back and ran the fingers of her good hand through his hair to fluff it up back to normal. “Forget everything you have ever been told about him until now, and everything you thought. Just tell me...Do you want to know him?”   
  
His heart jumped. He didn’t think this would ever actually happen. He had led his life ready to never even know his face, but now that the chance was presented to him, David balked. What if he ruined everything by bringing a man he knew next to nothing about into his life, Max’s life?   
  
Or…What if it turned out to be a good thing?   
  
_ What if he deserves a chance for family? _ _   
  
_

“I thought you hated him,”  _ enough to shoot him _ . “And Granda hates him, too.”   
  
“Nothing is black and white, love. If you choose to meet him, I’m with you. If you don’t, that doesn’t change.” Aster stood on her tiptoes to kiss his forehead and he felt the tiniest bit better about everything. “You’re a great mom,” he told her, and she flinched. He knew she didn’t believe it. He was furious to have been lied to again by his grandfather and he had no idea how he was going to deal with it. Adaire probably didn’t even know what Max had done.   
  
_ Max _ , he thought _ , I need to go home to Max. He has to know everything’s okay _ . Even if David wasn’t sure it was. “This doesn’t mean I’m not upset with you for hiding things.”   
  
“I know.”   
  
“You can make it up to me by honestly answering some questions for Gwen.”   
  
Aster wrapped her arms around herself and forced deep breaths through her lungs as she hung her head, clearly at war with herself but she finally nodded. “I can do that. It’s time.”   
  
She gathered up the pictures, closed the album and then placed it in his hands. “This is yours, if you want it.”   
  
David kept hearing the gruff, not at all kind sounding voice through a crackly old payphone as he felt the weight of the book. He still didn’t know what he wanted to do. Confront his grandfather? Have another explosive argument? Shove this album and the letters into a dark corner and never have to deal with the painful past again?    
  
Or call his dad again?   
  
Aster had to give him a ride to where his car had been sitting overnight, and she gave him the keys with a still very displeased expression. She had been able to park it more discreetly in a convenience store parking lot, after intercepting a call about an impaired driver and recognized the license plate given. Lo and behold, she appeared with a bright flash light and the lecture of a life time as she yanked his keys out of the ignition and pulled him from the drivers seat by the scruff. The rest was history.    
  
He still couldn’t believe he tried driving home. He’d been so upset…   
  
_ There’s no excuse _ , he thought as he shakily started the car. He had to keep it together, he couldn’t risk falling apart and developing new, reckless bad habits that would endanger himself or his chances of keeping Max. And Max could never know, not after the mother he grew up with, he didn’t need the idea put in his head that maybe his foster father also could have a problem which he didn’t. One night of royal stupidity didn’t compare.   
  
Between leaving that lot and pulling up in his own driveway, it was all blur. Even as he stood on the porch, he simply couldn’t bring himself to go inside, so he brushed the snow off the swing-- the swing his father built-- and sat to try and put his thoughts back in order.

* * *

  
  
“Gwen?”    
  
She leaned out of the kitchen at his call, eyebrows furrowed in the same concern. They both heard the car. Max peeked through the curtains and saw David hadn’t budged.  _ Why isn’t he coming inside? _ He thought, his skin prickling with unease. “He’s just fucking sitting there.”   
  
“I’ll check on him in a minute, come get your lunch. Max? Max! Hey! You put those shoes down!”   
  
He ignored her and swiped his coat before she had the chance to intercept him. He just narrowly made it out the door before she got there and closed it in her face. Too slow, he thought smugly, but the smugness was cut short. The frigid air stabbed and prickled the moment it traveled into his lungs, and he quickly buried his mouth against the crook of his elbow to stifle the coughing. 

“You’re supposed to stay inside.” Max lifted his head, blinking as a wall of green wool fell over his eyes but then David secured it two times around his face and tucked it neatly over his mouth and nose to keep the cold out. He held still as David turned him around and put the ends of the scarf inside his coat, then zipped it up. “Hands in your pockets.” his guardian added, then flipped his hood up over his ears. “You’re not making me go back in?” Max asked.   
  
“Do you want to go?”   
  
“No! I came out here to see if you’re going insane, asshole! I’m fucking  _ worried  _ about you!” Max pulled his hand out of the pocket and threw sharp punch into David’s arm, the outburst getting the better of him. But David just chuckled, and fixed the collar of his coat to block out the cold, since he had donated his scarf. “I’m sorry I scared you, Maxie.”   
  
“Don’t call me that.”   
  
“Do you want to sit with me?”

  
David cleared off the rest of the snow on the swing and Max joined him on it, watching the branches of the tree tunnel around the road to their home sway. They rustled softly and he could see the cloudy peaks of the ridge in the distance, where once upon a time he got lost. David pushed his feet against the porch to make the bench swing back and forth in a gentle, soothing manner. “I’m not going to tell Adaire about any of this,” he said after a long time.   
  
“Aren’t you pissed at him for lying?”   
  
“Of course I am,” the swing stopped. “And I’m going to be hurt for a long time, but he’s still my family and I love him. I think maybe he was so convinced keeping my father away was the best thing for me that it didn’t matter anymore how he went about it. And he really cares about the both of us, I’m not going to throw that away.”   
  
“Did you find out anything about your dad?”   
  
“I did.” Max watched David crumble. His face was stoic and then it cracked and he put his head in his hands with a shaky sigh, looking much older than Max had ever seen. Summer hadn’t been so long ago, but it felt like a different life. They felt like different people. Max gingerly moved closer to him until he was able to tug on his coat sleeve. “Hey, um...I-I’m here.” It was the only thing that felt worth saying to try and comfort him. When David still couldn’t look at him, Max panicked. He was never the closed off one.    
  
He grabbed his arm and ignored a warning  _ Max  _ as he pulled it over his shoulders and leaned against David’s side, trying his best to hug him even though it was kind of awkward with how they were sitting, but Max didn’t care. “Do you think he’s a bad person?” he asked.   
  
David rested one arm around him, limply. Max hoped it was just because of the cast, which he wouldn’t have to wear much longer. “I think he  _ could  _ be good,” he murmured. “It’s not the same, though.”   
  
The boy chose his words with extreme care, as he shivered. The cold was starting to pierce his layers. “I think you should talk to him, if you can.”   
  
“Yeah?”   
  
“Yeah. People deserve a chance...I did.”   
  
Max couldn’t see David’s face, but he felt his gloved hand pull his hood down and both arms suddenly wrap around him tight, but never too tight. When David put a kiss on the top of his head and rested his cheek against his hair, it didn’t feel so unnatural as it used to. “I love you,” David’s voice was steadier now. The words got stuck in Max’s throat again.  _ Just say them _ , he thought, but he couldn’t.    



End file.
